A Better Fate
by Femme Bono
Summary: Snape is saved from death and finds himself in a whole other world. Rated M for later chapters. SS/OFC, HG/OMC.
1. Chapter 1

A Better Fate...

Severus lay as the trio left him, completely spent, staring off to the far musty corner of the room. How he hated this place. It seemed a cruel twist that fate would have him bleeding out here, years after he had been pulled from a certain death that waited in these very rooms. He rasped out another shallow breath as the dim light grew to blinding brilliance, and he knew the end had finally come at last. Though he had little strength left to function, it occurred to him as a vague surprise that he be met with light at all, rather he had always expected to simply be eclipsed into darkness and chill. Yet from the center of the room it radiated out, and he could feel the warmth as several hooded figures formed from within it. One, in the center of them, lowered a white cloak to reveal a woman of luminescent ivory skin, eyes of an uncommon teal blue, and hair a pale strawberry. He noted a petal pink flush to her cheeks and lips, as the flush of youth, yet he could not have begun to place her age. Beside her stood another beauty, darker and if possible, lovelier. This child, for she could hardly have been older than his seventh years, wore the garb of a princess of old, a silver circlet over raven tresses, silver cuffs on her arms, and a gown of deep midnight blue that set off striking forget-me-not eyes.

As the others approached, remaining hooded, he could tell by their shapes they were all men. All hooded, but no Death Eaters. These men were robed as bards or the Druids of ages long past. They surrounded his body, their hands outstretched as he lay, too weak to move or fend them off as he knew surely someone must have seen this group enter from the grounds where the battle still raged. The dark one knelt by his head, lifting it to meet a chalice the fair one brought to his lips. He could not tell but the light seemed to emanate from them, all of them, as the men kneeled in a circle and laid hands upon him. Trying to swallow the water he was offered, he choked down some drops of the metallic tasting liquid as his neck began to burn and his body warmed until he felt quite hot. A bubbling at his neck brought on a new fear as he wondered fleetingly what this group was doing, any efforts he may have made to question or stir were squelched as everyone but the dark one above him began to chant softly, a thrumming sound that rose and fell with an almost palpable energy.

The wounds at his neck hissed and bubbled malevolently and the heat from his body had him breaking out into a sweat all over again. He looked from one person to the other, only the ladies' faces fully visible as if to plead with them to stop. Their chanting hum peaked to crescendo as he felt the last oozing trickle from the gouges Nagini had left and his skin suddenly felt as though it was knitting itself together again. The chants abruptly stopped as the hands lifted off of him and the heat dissipated. Once again the blonde woman (was she a woman?) tipped the goblet to his lips, and now he drank thirstily of water he could finally describe as tasting distinctly and strongly of iron.

Feeling his strength returned, Severus sat up, looking at the floor behind him at what he was sure must now be nearly all his life's blood drained, he was surprised to see the majority of it was a bilious milky liquid...venom. "But, how?" he asked, not even knowing how to phrase the question. As he turned back to face his saviors, the hooded men were already fading back into the light in center of the room. The two women remained, both rising as the fair one smiled.

"Our magic is older by far than any you have learned, Severus Snape," she said with a strange lilt. Both women held out hands to help him up, surprising him with their strength as they hauled him to his feet. Raising his hands to his neck and face, he was astounded to feel not only healed wounds, but smooth and unmarked skin.

At the shock on his face, the surly furrow of his brow, the dark one laughed gently. "You have been healed by the Hooded Ones, and drunk the healing waters of Slane, blessed by Dian Cecht." The names rang a bell, deep in the recesses of his mind, something he was sure Binns had mentioned years ago in his days as a schoolboy. "I am Lasair," said the dark-haired one. "This is Coventina, who comes from the sacred well. She's a healer as well. We are of the Aes Sidhe, the ones of the hills, and came on the orders of Cailleach. The Lady wishes to see you, as you are much a hero in our world as in your own. It is she who deemed you to be saved from death. She has requested your presence, Severus the spy, and she waits."

At this, she held out a hand as Coventina, nodding, stepped through the door ahead of them and walked out of the shack.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This story has been waiting a long time too, and I apologize most profusely for being the infrequent updater. Now that my summer is in full-swing though the muse is beating me over the head to finish this, Deep Roots, and my Lucius-centric fics, so stay tuned kids.

A Whole Other Realm

As he walked straight out the front door of the Shrieking Shack with the two women, Severus had a moment of clarity. This should not be happening. It was impossible. Dumbledore had made that ruddy door impenetrable, he thought. Surely this is a dream. As he stepped off the front stoop and into the Forbidden Forest, however, he was acutely aware of the rustling leaves, the heavy tread of his footfalls, the scent of heather and evergreen and loamy soil, and he knew he was wide awake. Wide awake, and leaving his old reality behind. The trio walked in silence down a path of which he was acutely aware had never been there before. As his focus shifted from the awkward quiet between them to the sights, sounds, and scents of the forest, he felt the peculiar sensation of being watched. Yet he could hear nothing out of the ordinary. The fluttering of wings, twittering of birdsong, and the far-off gurgle of a brook did nothing to alleviate his disquiet. Though he could not see anything through the dense branches, from the instincts sharply honed after years of service as a spy he knew that as they walked someone or something watched, and the feeling only grew stronger as they made their way.

After several minutes and many cautious glances over his shoulder, Severus' fingers still flexing around his wand, they reached the brook and crossed over a footbridge so old it was overgrown with dirt and grasses. No sooner had they done so, than he noticed shimmering lights here and there through the forest. Over the breeze he could swear he heard the sound of flutes or pan pipes and though he still had a strong sensation of someone observing their movements, Severus found himself relaxing. Surely if anyone had meant them harm they would have attacked by now, he mused. He spared a glance at the two ladies who both seemed wholly undisturbed. The elder blonde walked ahead, her slippered feet stepping so lightly and agilely enough over roots and leaves that there was barely a sound.

The brunette, who had apparently deemed herself his personal escort, stepped just as quietly beside him as Coventina ahead. He could see Lasair's face easily enough, out of his peripheral vision, and wondered at the small smile playing over her lips. Full and firm, they turned up at the corners as if she were used to smiling often. Her long, heavy lashed dipped slowly, fluidly like that of a doe. She looked, in a word, perfectly content and even a little expectant. They had barely rounded a curve in the path when a small copse of young oaks came into view and Lasair seized his arm. Tensing up again, Severus was about to draw his wand when he hazarded a glance at her face. Rather than alarm she was jubilant. Coventina, likewise, quickened her pace even as she said over her shoulder, "on we get, you two, we're nearly there!"

'There' appeared not too long after, as the group found themselves in front of a cave at the base of a great hill. Once inside, they weaved downwards through a curving passage hewn from solid rock, which was dotted with torches that lit themselves as the trio advanced. Several minutes later they rounded a last curve as the passage spilled out into a large open room that rivaled the Great Hall at Hogwarts. In the center of the room stood a long table lined with chattering guests, twice as long as their school staff table and beyond it, at the opposite end of the room sat a large throne of carved cherry, on which sat a stately robed lady with long red hair shot through with streaks of gold, lending her the air of a glowing aura.

"You are well come, Severus the Spy," said the lady rising as both Coventina and Lasair curtseyed deeply. "I am Cailleach, also called Scotia, and mother of all I survey."

She proffered her hand, which he touched lightly to his lips in deference, bowing slightly. Cailleach smiled and inclined her head, touching a hand to his cheek.

"You are wondering, no doubt, why you are summoned thus. Take a seat, dear Severus, and I will tell you all."

With a gesture toward the table, she moved to take the place of honor, even as Coventina and Lasair seated themselves nearby. Severus likewise, sat down to her right in the only vacant chair. As soon as he had, a great feast appeared before them. Great roasts of ham and beef, tureens of peas and carrots, boiled potatoes, bowls of fruits and berries all left Severus' mouth watering even as Lasair took his plate and began filling it herself with all and sundry before starting her own. Disconcerted at this, he started to protest only to be shushed by Cailleach.

"You are our guest, dear boy, do allow us to spoil you a bit. You have been through much quite recently, but I ask you to relax and enjoy yourself for as long as you're here."

With so many questions running through his head as he chewed and swallowed the first savory bite the only one he could think to ask without sounding rude was, "how do you know of me?"

Cailleach laughed, a robust full-bodied sound even as her eyes gleamed with humor. "We know many things of your world, and you are quite famous in it. Even now, Severus, they fight using the knowledge you left with them, even after being bloodied and beaten. Yet that is why you are here, in essence, you fought well and bravely. Though you were tempted by darkness and power and could have given yourself over to it fully, you did not. Instead you pulled yourself back from that precipice and changed yourself. You, who are gifted and intelligent, with no small amount of power all your own, did not give in to the seduction. That shows a tenacity, a strength of resolve that is nearly unmatched in your world. All of these things make you quite a formidable foe and one very intriguing man. So admirable in fact, that we all agree you deserve a great boon. For all that did we bring you back from certain death, for that we brought you here, and for what you are and what you've done I have a proposition for you which you may consider this night."

"What do you offer? And what must I do?" he asked, startled.

With a light laugh now, she gently laid a hand on his arm. "So many years of tyranny have taught you much trepidation my dear. Worry not, for I ask nothing without giving you a choice. I will however, ask a boon for us as well. Your offer is simply this: that we allow you to stay in our world to learn our ways, such magic that is older and stronger than ever you have dreamed possible. You may learn all that you can, especially in the art of warfare, for that is your heart's desire, is it not? At the end of a year and a day you may return to the school you call home with such knowledge that you can successfully teach it to any students therein."

"Where and what would you teach me?"

"I?" she laughed, "not I, but Scathach, the warrior queen-and mother to Lasair. She instructs many a man of the sidhe in the ways of war and she would welcome you to her school. Should you decide to go, you would leave in the morning and journey north with Lasair. Likewise, Lasair and her sisters have offered to teach you a great many things as well. Nature magics, calls to the elements. All of this, of course, without the use of a wand," she finished, leveling her gaze at him as she sipped her wine.

"Wandless magic..."

"Indeed, as it was done centuries before your kind decided to channel it thus."

"And what must I do in return?"

"In return, we offer you the chance to marry one of our kind, dowry included, in order to continue our race through yours."

Severus sat back as he digested this. An arranged marriage? That certainly seemed a steep price to pay for such knowledge. As he looked around the table at the women seated, he conceded that every one was exceedingly beautiful and any one would make a fetching bride. He could not love her however, not as he had... Pushing those thoughts away he pondered the ramifications of such a match. The knowledge she spoke of imparting was unheard of in their world. These were stronger magics that even Voldemort or Dumbledore had dreamt of, for surely he felt the power emanating from all and sundry at this table to the point that it was almost palpable. What's more, he alone would be able to teach it in turn to any number of Hogwarts students for generations to come. This lady practically gift-wrapped the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for him. Even as he lusted for such power and the prominence it would bring, a niggling thought in the back of his mind asked why his payment for such a privilege should be marriage. What woman did they have in mind? Why marriage, and how did it help continue their race?

Tentatively he voiced these questions to Cailleach, who answered smiling. "There now, we would hardly offer you an ogre." This set those nearby tittering with laughter. "If you'll forgive my old-fashioned terms, she will be a girl of good breeding, excellent family, gifted with strong magic and knowledge, fair of face and form... all a man could ask for in a wife."

"As to your concern about our race, we, as with any other people cannot survive by intermarrying time and again. This is the bane of many societies who become so full of their own virtue that they feel it must be kept within to avoid dilution. Surely you know this."

Severus nodded grudgingly before Cailleach continued.

"Point of fact, my dear, your race of wizards and witches are nothing more than the offspring between the sidhe and ordinary humans."

"Do you mean to tell me that we are in actuality nothing more than varying degrees of magical Muggles, for lack of a better term?"

"To a degree," she replied holding up a hand, "and in all honesty magic does wan after a hundred or so generations. Yet that is quite a lot of time for a human and furthermore, these Muggleborns you speak of are merely what in years past would have been called changelings. They are nothing more than the magical offspring of a fairy and human mating. Naturally, this is not usually by the human's awareness. Many women find themselves pregnant after a mere dalliance with a strangely desirable man or after a night of carousing with an unusually amorous husband, either of whom is a sidhe man. Likewise, many a mortal man has been visited by or brought to the bower of a sidhe woman believing he dreamed-never knowing that when they parted she was with child. By and large, my dear, we have our ways of not dying out. The favor you grant us by marrying is to do your part in creating yet another line of fairy family."

"In addition, you will be asked to choose one of your prize pupils every year to return here for more in-depth training. We prefer, of course, that you choose a singularly gifted and formidable witch or wizard to continue what we hope will be the start of an honored tradition which may build better relations between our worlds, even while protecting us from overexposure. That said, I would ask if there is a student you can think of even now who possesses such qualities?"

Severus cast his mind about trying to think of students who had excelled themselves in the past year, especially seventh years. Longbottom, despite his newfound valiance on the battlefield was still abhorrent at potions and merely passable at transfiguration. Even as he dismissed Neville from his mind, he thought of another and groaned inwardly. Some semblance of the thought must have shown on his face, for Cailleach smiled again. "Yes, we thought she would do. Truly there can be no one better."

"God no," started Severus before he caught himself. "Miss Granger?"

"Is anyone else likely to absorb so much in so short a time?"

"No," he said resignedly.

Lasair laughed outright at his discomfiture. "Do not fear, dear Severus. One of our first lessons for her shall be humility."

"It is set then. Even if you refuse, she shall be invited on the morrow. For yourself, you have tonight to consider and I shall expect your answer at first light. Your choice is for you and you alone. For now, Severus, enjoy what is left of the festivities, for tonight is of course May Eve and in our world, as yours, there is much to celebrate."

-  
Pronunciation guide:

Cailleach- CAL-yeck

Lasair- LAY-sair

Coventina- Co-ven-TEE-na

sidhe- she


	3. Chapter 3

Of Dreams and Realities

In his dreams that night Severus stood on the edge of a clearing, watching the lady and her court as they danced around the balefire. Some couples leaped over the flames while others, also on the fringe of the group, sneaked off into the darkness for another kind of dance. The lights he had seen earlier flitted in and around them all. As one flew close he was amazed to see not the Cornish pixie that they reminded him of, but a small child, which giggled and twittered before flying away. Musicians played a lively reel with violins, pan pipes and bodhrans, and there, directly opposite him was Lasair, clapping her hands and singing in time with the music. She stood as he did, at the edge of the crowd, neither dancing nor coupling off with anyone. She was just as beautiful, if not more so, than the other ladies present. Her face and form were a sight to behold; through the low cut of her gown he could see the high, firm swell of her breasts and traveling lower his eyes gathered in the luscious image of her narrow waist and the subtle flaring of hips. Young as she looked, still with the flush of youth on her cheeks, she was probably infinitely older than he. Unconsciously licking his lips, Severus brought his gaze back to the comeliness of her face, lips full and lush like berries at their peak in season, heavily fringed lashes and deep blue eyes full of secrets. He felt a stirring in his loins for the first time in ages, even as a male voice echoed from behind him.

"She is from an ancient line, as are they all. People who walked these hills ages before yourself called them gods. Others called them fae."

Not wanting to tear his gaze away, Severus turned slowly to find not a man, but a great horned stag standing regally before him. The stag, whose antlers curved high and sharp, inclined his head as if in greeting.

"Your fate rests with them, Severus, should you so choose," the stag's voice echoed through his head. "It is always a matter of choice, for your fate rests in your own hands."

"How could I marry?" he said, voicing his concerns for the first time. "Whomever they choose, how could I possibly expect to love, or more importantly to be loved by someone I barely know. What's more, I did love once and it nearly killed me. When I lost her I thought my very soul would be crushed by the weight of my grief... and my guilt."

"Yet your love, boy, was that of a selfish nature. It is quite often crushing and never the freeing feeling that so often comes with true love. And I can tell you this for nothing, for I am a traveler between the veil of life and death, she forgives you any transgression you may have made out of ignorance of youth. Her blood is not on your hands, son. It was not your choice to fell her, after all.

I will tell you this as well: true love is yours if you take it. There is someone out there for your very own who will give you her all and inspire the best out of you. You can find her if you are willing to look into yourself, discover who you truly are and what you are worth, and heal."

With that, the stag turned and with a bounding leap, disappeared into the forest. Severus raced after him, wanting to ask how he would even begin to do such a thing, but to no avail. Everywhere he looked was darkness and just the beginning of a dirt path. He traced the path deftly for having to move in such pitch dark, his long legs covering the ground in great strides. Looking hither and yon for any sign of the stag, he was amazed to have circled right back around to the clearing. As one of the ladies in front of him turned around, he found himself face to face with Lasair. Smiling as she twirled an oak leaf between her fingers, Lasair offered it to him. When he took it, she laughed once, a tinkling sound that blended with the music of chimes and bells on the wind, and blew him a kiss.

"Come with us, Severus. You will find a power beyond any you've seen in your previous life."

Before he could reply he shot upright in bed, even as the first rays of light crested over the hill under which he slept. He glanced around, pondering the strange dream as he remembered the events of the evening before. He was in the room one of the servants had taken him to, and his stomach grumbled. Voldemort was dead, all of the magical world surely still celebrated this, and here he was in a world unlike any other he had seen, where the line between dreams and reality blurred. For there, on the embroidered coverlet, was the thing Lasair had given him in his sleep. A single, green oak leaf.

Breakfast that morning consisted only of Cailleach, Lasair, and Severus. Cailleach informed him that many of the revelers from the night before were still sleeping off the effects of their celebrations. Rather than ask what Severus had decided, the lady seemed to take for granted that he had consented to go. He sensed somehow that his dream actions of the night before had been seen as an acceptance on his part. There, as in myth, he departed after the stag-a symbol for the hunt and the beginnings of a quest. He did not stop to consider the ramifications of that path ending with him seeing Lasair, but instead focused on the fact that as she asked him to go and offered the leaf, he had without hesitation taken it. And so he said nothing as time and again, servants approached the table as they ate, clarifying Cailleach's instructions or informing her of how the preparations for Lasair's and Severus' departure were progressing. By the time they finished the meal, two horses had been loaded and stood ready with provisions for the journey.

They exited the cave through another winding tunnel, coming out on the opposite side they had entered from the day before. Cailleach kissed them both good-bye, clasping their hands.

"Well and merry we part until we meet again," she said, her eyes filling as she smiled wistfully. "Fare you well and may the road rise to meet you. You will return here, my Severus for your marriage one year hence." With that, she slapped his horse's flank as Lasair cantered away, waving merrily.

"On we get, dear Severus. For by the time the sun has begun to make its descent we will be home.. in the Forest of Scathach."

"And where is that exactly?" he asked tersely, already regretting their choice of conveyance, even though they clipped along at an easy walk. It had been years since he had ridden.

"To the northwest," she replied simply.

"Really, there's not much left unless it's under the Atlantic."

"I shall stop you before you hit water, I promise," she said, laughing gaily. "Come now, Severus, where is your sense of adventure?"

"A desire for adventure is more a Gryffindor trait...," he began, before he realized she may not understand the reference.

"Oh, but therein lies the problem with part of your conditioning. That is the trouble with your school's house system in fact. It's all too vague, too generalistic, as though people-even children, mind you-have only one personality trait within them. Take yourself for example: true you have the instincts and self-preservation of the wily serpent, yet you also have the heart and courage of a lion, the loyalty of your Hufflepuffs even, and the exhaustive wit and intelligence of your Ravenclaws. At our own school we seek out such traits not to divide and categorize but to hone the strengths and whittle away the weaknesses. Those who excel in certain areas take it upon themselves to help those who do not."

Having no rejoinder for this, Severus lapsed into silence. Lasair, who seemed as comfortable in the quiet as she did in the conversation, breathed deeply and tilted her head to the stray shafts of sunlight peaking through the branches overhead, before breaking off into a trot that urged Severus to heel his horse's flank. And so they rode for hours, until the midday sun was high overhead. When at last they came upon the swell of a mountain stream, the duo dismounted and led the horses to drink. Lasair reached into one of the saddlebags to find a gourd of water and two large leather pouches filled with a loaf of brown bread, a soft wedge of cheese and some fruit. They ate slowly, standing to stretch their legs. Severus longed to rub his backside, but refused to do it in front of the girl who kept shooting him sly glances as though she knew where his thoughts were. When they were suitably rested, the pair mounted up once again and splashed across the stream onto what appeared to be a well-worn riding path.

Barely a half hour had passed before Severus felt the uneasy urge to look over his shoulder. The hairs on the back of his neck rose ominously, and he reached into the sleeve of his frock coat for the security of his wand. Glancing furtively through the underbrush on either side of the path, he whispered to Lasair, who had tensed in her saddle.

"I have the distinct feeling we're being watched."

"I know," she replied, dropping back to walk beside him to keep the conversation from carrying. "I feel it too; this forest has eyes and ears."

No sooner had the words left her mouth, than two figures leapt from the canopy of trees overhead, knocking them both to the ground. Severus and Lasair both tucked and rolled, coming to stand behind each other, Severus with his wand aloft and Lasair, both hands holding balls of flame she had summoned from thin air. Without a word, they unleashed on their attackers. Severus flicked a Stunning spell at the one he faced, a russet-haired man in green garb. The ginger deflected it with his bare hand, causing Severus to fling up a Shield charm to protect him from his own work. Lasair, meanwhile had lobbed both fireballs at her attacker only to have them dissipate into steam as two great jets of water met them in midair. And so they met each other match for match, until Severus sent a volley of leaves fluttering into his opponent's face, then took advantage of his attempt to settle them by hauling the man upside down with a Levitation spell. He spun in time to see Lasair trap her adversary by opening the earth under the man's feet, only to seal it back with him trapped halfway below ground. As the two struggled to free themselves a commanding voice declared from the edge of the forest.

"Enough!" said the woman, waving a hand and releasing the two men at once. "Well done, to you both," she said with the smile of a satisfied general inspecting her troops. She looked to be a woman well out of her childrearing years, with dun-colored hair shot through with streaks of silver and a warrior's garb of thick leather hides over a russet tunic and skin breeches. She approached Lasair, first clasping her hand before drawing her into a fierce hug. "Welcome home, daughter."

"Mmm... Ma," Lasair smiled as the woman kissed her forehead. "I just knew it!"

"Welcome, Severus, to my forest," she said moving to him. "I am Scathach, warrior and teacher of the martial arts of the sidhe. You have done well for your first test."

-  
Pronunciation:

bodhran- BAU-run

Scathach- Scoth-OCK


	4. Chapter 4

Cht. 4, The first magic

Upon rising in the morning, Severus was surprised to note that the shift he was given to wear for bedtime was not much different from the one he was given to work and take his lessons in. They were starch white, presumably to signify their status as beginners, and though it was a coarse weave, the clothes were quite warm since there were pants to go with them as well in the daytime. Likewise, the students-for lack of a better term-were all kept so busy doing physical labor that they created plenty of heat.

Severus himself rubbed a hand over his now bare scalp and looked around. Yes, the shifts were only one way to delineate between the rank beginners and those more adept. The first thing they had done this morning once he had been given his second shift was to shave his head. Grimacing a bit at how he must look, Severus shook his head, rolled his shoulders and resumed his job splitting logs. Soon, he thought, his arms and back would be every bit as sore as his rump from riding the day before. Surely this pain was to teach him something as well, he mused. As he set another log up on the stump, swinging the ax in an arc, and barely registering the crack of splitting wood, he wondered what manual labor Miss Granger was being subjected to and nearly laughed aloud. At the thought of her unruly curls being shorn like a sheep, one deeply satisfying chuckle did escape. He looked around, somewhat abashed to have made a sound, for no one spoke here, unless of course they were adepts of a certain level it seemed. Most of the communication seemed to take place telepathically. Severus could not yet make himself understood that way if he wanted, but the trainers seemed to be able to hear his thoughts easily enough and could make him hear theirs.

Perhaps it was not such a bad thing for Granger to be here, and perhaps she would learn some restraint and humility. He breathed a deep, relieved sigh at the sounds of blissful silence and thought she could do with a bit of that too.

He had only seen her the once at dinner, but by the looks of the few women he had observed around this strange camp, they were to be kept separate from each other for the most part. Genders were split merely to avoid the distraction of sexual tension. Both, he understood, were taught the same things and performed the same chores. In fact, at some point in the day he would be taken to a weaving lesson. Here, it seemed, they did everything by hand that wizards would simply do with magic. They did not look to magic as the answer to everything, more as a way to enrich their lives.

As the day progressed, however, from the weaving lesson to the mid-day meal and finally to actual martial training Severus did find himself permitted to perform magic. There were hand-to-hand lessons where magic was not allowed, but directly thereafter he found himself sparring again with the russet-haired man from the day before. Cian, his name was, and in hands-on combat as well as magical dueling he was a fearsome partner.

"You're quite good, Severus," Cian projected as he deflected another spell. It was nearly infuriating that the man seemed to not even be out of breath after two hours of fighting, whereas Severus was panting and weary. He had been quite good back home, and light years beyond someone like Lockhart, the bastard. But here it seemed he was barely up to scratch.

"You'll get even better here," the red-head replied with a shake of his head, interrupting Severus' thoughts.

Turning to his only consolation these days, Severus wondered briefly if Granger was in as much trouble as it seemed he was.

"Oh she's doing quite as well as you," Cian replied amiably, startling Severus into missing a block. The spell Cian had shot at him landed Severus on his aching backside with a grunt that had the younger man guffawing like a buffoon.

"I was not aware that I needed to employ legilimancy here," Snape ground out through his teeth.

"True and you don't," Cian answered, offering Severus a hand up, which the older man took warily. "There isn't much about you that we don't already know, Severus. Your animosity for the Granger girl, for example." He gestured vaguely as he plopped down on a nearby boulder. "You know that part of the reason you dislike her so is that you have that untamable urge to find out all the answers yourself. You desire to know more than anyone else, because it makes you feel safe. It is a shadow of yourself that you're afraid will see the light of day. In herself, she is afraid that knowing the answers is her only strength, so she clings to it. It is only one of many insecurities she has."

"Being an insufferable brat is another," Severus groused as he circled the ring of thatch that had been set up for sparring.

Cian laughed heartily. "Only to you, Severus. Truly she is quite a striking and gifted witch."

This statement brought Severus up short. He turned back, raising an eyebrow at Cian who began stalking back and forth like a panther ready to pounce.

"Are we speaking of the same Hermione Granger? Surely not."

"Absolutely so. I know just as much about her as I do you-if not more so. You two really could get on quite well if you let yourselves, you know," said the ginger, getting into a defensive crouch.

"So you say," objected Severus, raising his wand in a classic dueling position.

Cian simply nodded, before lashing out with a lathe of fire which Severus deftly turned to ice and volleyed back to where Cian had been squatting. Yet the unruly youth had rolled aside and come up with a shower of dirt which flew into Severus' mouth, eyes and nose making him spit and rub at his eyes. Taking advantage of his opponent's distraction, Cian crooked a finger and Severus' legs shot out from under him. Landing again on his rear, Snape cursed vehemently while Cian laughed heartily. "Point again, Severus old boy. I win!"

After the sun had dipped behind the tree line, Severus found himself summoned before dinner to a nearby cave partway up the mountain that formed the eastern border of their settlement. His stomach rumbling with aggravation at being denied food after such a strenuous day, he made his way up the winding rocky path to the cave's entrance and stooped to enter. It was dimly lit by the last rays of the day's light, just enough that he could see two female forms therein standing around a ring of stones in the center of the large cavern.

He stepped fully into the cave, coming to the center ring and faced the two women, forming a triad.

"Good evening, Severus Snape," the taller of the two figures greeted in a sultry, husky voice. "I am Inghean, daughter of Scathach. I will be teaching the first of three important lessons to you as our newest initiates. If you will, please, give me your wands."

The other figure fumbled in her shift for her wand before swiftly handing it over. Severus took his time, not wanting to part with his only line of defense. With great reluctance, he handed it over. Before either could say a word, Inghean dropped them both into the stone circle, which promptly erupted into flames. The shorter figure squeaked in protest and Severus bellowed a "no!" but to no avail. The fire licked the top of the cave, issuing sparks and licks of different colored flames, no doubt from the burning magical tools incinerated down to their cores. Within moments, the fire calmed to a low simmering glow revealing a cornsilk blonde robed in shimmering light blue cloth.

"As you leave the old ways of doing magic behind-the old habits from your world-you start out as you once did. Without a wand to channel your magic, you learn not to rely on outside elements, but the power within yourselves, which is your source. You start again as you were when you were babes, for you are new in this world and new in learning magic again. This is your rebirth into the magical world, and you have much to learn. The first of which is the first magic. Fire."

With that word she drew their gaze from her face to the flames flickering between them.

"Do you-do you mean we're to conjure it ourselves?" queried the shorter female.

Glancing at her as she spoke, Severus was jolted to realize that it was Granger. The girl had been silent so long, he was truly amazed. She looked quite different without the untamable curls flying about her visage. In fact, she looked a bit older and more mature. Less like some mussed child who couldn't be fussed to brush her hair. Her gaze flicked over to Severus as if expecting some retort on his part, but Severus was having the same thought. Not since he was a child had he done magic without a wand, and even then it had not been channeled through his hands as this woman seemed to expect of them.

"Of course. The magic comes from you, simply let it flow through you and out into the ring. Truly, the magic courses through the earth, the moon's glow, the rays of the sun, the very air you breathe. You are born with an inherent ability to draw it from there, through yourselves. You are the channel. Not some stick… you. You can pull it through your body and direct it with whatever you choose. Your hand, fingers, a toe if you wish. But it is within you. Draw it out."

Severus and Hermione both shifted awkwardly.

"How?" Severus said, exasperatedly, voicing their concerns in one simple syllable.

"The same way you do all your magic, without even thinking," the flaxen-haired woman replied serenely despite the answering hiss from Severus' side of the fire. With a snap of her fingers, the fire went out, plunging them into inky darkness relieved only by the dim glow of moonlight from outside.

"Feel the heat build up within you from all the warmth and hot breath of emotions and moments in your life. There is magic in those. The burn of lust, heat of summer, sweltering sun above you, fire of anger, warmth of a friend's love… you feel these things and use them. Feel them build from the tips of your toes and build in your belly. That lust pools in your loins, anger flows from your abdomen, love from you heart. Whatever emotion is strongest at the time, pull from there and let it build until you can stretch it through you. Throw it out from your hands."

Frustrated, Severus searched for a feeling he could latch onto. Anger was easiest for him, but he felt it throughout. It was near the surface and through him. There was no single point in which to focus it.

"Breathe and center yourself. Find one memory and focus on it, feel the warmth of it, the heat."

Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and Severus felt his chest hurting from straining to breath. This workout was ever bit as strenuous as the one earlier in the day and he felt faintly dizzy from it taxing his body and mind. A mild tingling in his fingertips told him that magic was building and he was running the risk of doing uncontrolled magic. Not what the situation required, he thought. Control. He must get control.

Just then a sputtering spark erupted to his left, where Granger stood. It sparked once more and he saw her flick her fingers toward the ring of stones with a surprised yelp as a thin tongue of flame shot to life, a scant few centimeters high, but there is was. Severus looked up from under his furrowed brow to see Granger's face, astounded but jubilant.

"Well done," Inghean said, folding her hands in front of her.

"Well done, indeed!" spat Severus.

"There is time for you yet, Severus." Inghean inclined her head to look up at him, meeting his angry gaze. "It is within you to do, but you must get control of your emotions. They are so volatile and so close to the surface that when the dam breaks you will be a danger to yourself and all around if you do not reign them in. They are quite raw, but if you could harness that, the power from it would be immense-"

"Damned if I'm going to sit here and drudge up emotions," he said recoiling from both women. "Emotions have never dictated what I do or where my magic comes from. Emotions are something I always have to have in check or risk everything. People who wear their emotions on their sleeves sign their own death warrants. You either rule your emotions or they rule you. And I'll not stand here and let them out for all and sundry."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode out, leaving a wake of tension rippling through the air as he stalked back to the massive oak that led to their underground fort and his evening meal. He was hungry, angry and raw from the maelstrom of emotions that he swore would not be brought to the surface by walking demi-goddesses or silly ex-students.

When he dropped down beside Cian at the table, the younger man looked up as if to remark, but merely shook his head as if to let something pass. Severus, caught up in the roil of thoughts in his own head, barely registered the action at all.

That night Severus stood on the edge of a large lake in a deep cavern. In the distance an eery glow emanated from the center of the lake casting everything else into shadow.

"Severus," the familiar cold voice hissed from behind him. "Your potion has done well. Regulus is dying slowly, but surely. His very darkest, fearful memories wracking his conscience as he goes."

He turned to face his old master, barely containing the tremors that traced their way down his spine. Reaching his hand cautiously into the folds of his robes he tried to clasp his fingers around his wand, only to find that it was gone. He tipped his gaze to the scarlet slits that were narrowed in mirth at his old friend's demise and felt the anger build in him.

Severus let it pool in his gut, that scarcely contained fury at all the bloodshed. He thought of all the lives lost, all the fractures in his own soul, of his own conscience pricking him so much that he felt his whole being was bloodied. A scouring inferno built from the soles of his feet through his body; that fire in his belly reached such a pitch that he threw his hands toward Voldemort growling in feral rage from the energy of his hate and watched as flames shot from his fingers, engulfing the robes of the wizard before him.

"Are you happy now?" he raged. "Do you realize what you've done? The family's torn apart, women, children, men felled by your insanity! You're a bloody plague on this world, damn you!"

Voldemort writhed and screamed, not even registering the wrath beside him as he flailed his arms and ran, leaping into the depths of the lake. Snape's legs gave out, and he landed painfully on his knees on top of the pebbly rocky shore. His breath, ragged and rasping, caught in his chest as the water began teeming and churning. Hands appeared, then arms, scrabbling up to the surface where he knelt. He scrambled back, edging swiftly away to the shadowed wall behind him as shoulders and heads of the first bodies lurched out of the water toward him. Shuffling out ahead of the others, arms outstretched, was Dumbledore.

"Severus," he moaned, "I loved you like my own son and you killed me as surely as you did your own father. You failed, Severus! You got yourself killed. How in the world can you protect Harry Potter if we are both dead? You, a potions master, not carry an anti-venin? What goes on in that infernal mind of yours, boy? You never let anyone know what you are truly thinking, Severus. You should have-"

"Stop! Stop it," Snape moaned, his lip curled in a sneer. "I couldn't do enough for you, old man. When will it end, eh? When is my job done?"

Feeling the rage again, he threw his hands out and flames flared over Dumbledore as they had Voldemort only moments earlier. His robes caught, his beard and ever-present hat engulfed and he began melting like a wax effigy. Barely a moment after, his father and mother appeared both shuffling toward him and muttering recriminations and accusations. "Why couldn' ye have been a normal boy?" his father ranted, "Could've played football! Could've worked with yer old man at the mill or sommat! Yer the reason I drank, ye no good louse! Yer the reason I fell in. Tweren't payin' attention to the river or nuthin', jus' thinkin of my shiftless son an' how ter fix 'im- "

"Why couldn't you let me be myself?" raged Snape, pulling fire from the pit of his core again, both of his parents melting into oblivion from the flames, leaving one standing behind them, more formidable than the rest.

"You should have saved me, Severus," she cried, "you should have known he'd come for me. You should have protected me. I thought you loved me. You hated James more than you loved me."

"No," Snape gasped, "no I loved you so much it burned me. And you never saw me."

"You weren't what I wanted," Lily replied stepping right up to him. "You weren't funny enough, handsome enough, outgoing enough. He was everything I wanted."

"He was an arrogant prick!" Snape shrieked.

"He was mine," she laughed hollowly, "and I belonged to him in a way I never would for you."

"I could have given you everything."

"He gave me everything."

"Enough of him!" Snape screamed, throwing his hands up and igniting the painful memory of Lily Potter. "You should have loved me the way I was!"

Finally, defeated, Severus dropped to the ground. His fists clenched at the pebbles under him as he cried out his grief. So much pressure from so many years of being pulled any number of directions poured out of him. He sobbed into the soil, curled in on himself until he felt weak as any babe. In the silence at last, he heard only the water lapping the shore and felt the cool roughness of the rocks beneath his cheek. From above though, he began to feel drops of moisture. First one, then a few. Thinking he lay under a leak from some fissure in the rock above, he rolled over to find himself looking into the tearstained face of Lasair. Too numb and weak to move, he simply lay there watching as she placed a hand first on his chest, then on his forehead.

"They never looked within you to see all that you were, none of them. And that is plenty enough to fuel such rage. But leave it here. May you have scourged those demons and may you realize that people will only see what you show them. Tom Riddle only saw your hate, Albus Dumbledore saw your resolve and your desire to redeem yourself, your parents saw an ambitious wizard but an apathetic child, Lily Potter saw a lonely boy who needed a friend. You are all of those and more. The damage was done by the fact that that is all you saw as well. When you realize how much you are and open yourself to all you can be, and be willing to show people your complete self, then and only then will they see it and be able to love you. And they can…love you. Are you worth that?"

"I don't know," he whispered, looking into cobalt eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light.

"Until you do…" she said softly as his eyes closed.

Cian: KEY-un


	5. Chapter 5

Cht. 5, Plumbing the Depths

Many months later, well after Midsummer, when the nights had turned chilly and frost threatened, Severus finished his day of helping with the harvest by sharing a meal in the great hall under the base of the huge oak he had come to call home. He studied Cian over the remains of a large loaf of brown bread and a near empty platter of broiled haddock. The boy's eyes traveled across the tables to a row of women seated with their backs to the men. Following Cian's gaze, Severus stifled the urge to groan when he realized the lad was watching the Granger girl. He could not, however, stop himself from raising a disdainful brow.

"Ah, now, Severus," laughed Cian, realizing he had been caught. "Sure you can't blame me for appreciating a fine face and form."

"It seems the separation to avoid distraction does _not _help in your case," Snape replied acerbically.

"And I would claim that it does, my good friend," smiled Cian. "Leastways your tricks are still taking a bit to get through. Though I must say you're coming along quite rapidly these days."

"Felled you yesterday, did I not," Severus smiled wryly.

"That you did," Cian nodded genially. "You've gotten stronger as well, quicker than ever you were, and you were no idler to begin with and that's true enough."

"Sir! Mister Snape-I mean…S-Severus," said a boy about the age of a first year who came rushing up to the table.

Though he just barely cleared Snape's shoulder and had a tendency to want to treat his elders deferentially-despite being levels above them magically-this sandy-haired boy with the impish grin had blown them all away at archery just that morning. Point of fact, he had corrected Severus' stance and helped improve his aim.

"Tristan, isn't it," Snape asked idly, turning to face the child. "What do you need, boy?"

"The lady Scathach bid me to bring you to her when you had sufficient time to digest. It's now been nearly half an hour since. Will you come?"

"I suppose I'll have to won't I," he replied, standing and stepping over the bench as he followed Tristan to the door.

Tristan turned back a moment as they reached the entrance to the tree, a large hole dug out between roots just big enough for a average sized man to walk through comfortably. Snape ducked his head a bit to get out and nearly ran smack into the boy who looked as if he were about to ask a question that might get his hand rapped.

"Yes?" Severus asked warily.

"Do you ever answer a question with a direct answer?"

Severus quirked an eyebrow at this and drew himself up, crossing his arms. "On occasion."

Tristan simply smiled, a dimple winking at the corner of his mouth, and turned to traipse off around the side of the oak and onto a narrow path that led to a part of the forest he had not yet been into. "You're funny, Severus, you know that?" he threw back over his shoulder.

Severus followed him closely into the darkest part of the forest. Yet even now he saw the winking lights of fairy babes just off the path over bushes and up in trees. The little sprites were no longer shy of him and flew in close to grin with dimply faces not much different from Tristan's. He knew that these were the eyes he had felt when he first entered the world of the fae, and now, unlike his initial trip into this enchanted land he knew like Tristan, Lasair, and the others how to walk silently. He had come to understand that it was not stealth, but a kind of reverence. They came up over a slight incline while Severus was lost in thought and on cresting over it, he was surprised to find himself at a very small pond ringed partway around by toadstools and trees. The pond itself made a slight crescent shape, for it was cut into by a large rocky hill at the foot of which sat Scathach.

"Thank you Tristan for bringing him," the lady smiled as the boy tipped a short bow and left, nearly scampering happily away again down the path. "Be seated with me, Severus. Have a cuppa, won't you? The evening is still early."

She gestured to a small boulder across from the one on which she sat. On a small flat place on top sat a cup and saucer that matched one she held in her lap, both cobalt blue and ringed around the lip with gold.

Severus leaned a hip against the rock and tried furtively to sniff the concoction. Scathach surprised him with laughter, full-bodied and rich. "Ever the suspicious potioner, you are. There is very little in it you would worry about. But I'm curious, Severus, what do you detect?"

Somewhat sheepishly, Severus lifted a shoulder and rattled off what he could divine simply from smell. "Strong smell of bay, cinnamon, something flowery under it, and something bitter…"

"Lavender and of course, mugwort. The other herbs take the bite out of the mugwort a bit, I find."

"This sounds like a brew Trelawney would take, not me."

Scathach chuckled and raised a knee, clasping her hands around it. "If Trelawney were not so full of her own virtue and could get out of her own way, she may actually See with it, too. As it happens, that brew only enhances what is already naturally there. The most that usually holds anyone back, Muggles included, are their own fears."

"Drink up, Severus," she added, "for you have much to see."

She lifted her cup without another word and took a strong sip, watching him over the rim as he did the same. Then the lady's gaze drifted over to the water's edge, as it gleamed with moonlight from overhead. The waxing crescent was as clear and crisp as the night itself. A chill had settled since the light had gone, and Severus was thankful for the warm cup in his hands. Before morning, he was sure, there was likely to be snow. Truly, as closely as he was living to the earth these days, he felt as if he felt the changes and rhythms of it better than ever he had.

The two sat in a companionable silence at the water's edge, their faces illuminated by the moon and the sparkling of infant pixies. Severus realized that here, so far from all he had known, he felt a soul-deep peace and contentment that he had never had in his life.

"What is this place?" he breathed, his eyes closing as he took in the sounds of night around them.

"It is Caer spring," replied Scathach quietly. "It is a restful place. One you will know intimately after tonight."

As she spoke, she rose, and Severus followed suit albeit warily at her pronouncement.

"Tonight Severus you voyage to the Underworld to bring back knowledge from the sacred well. I will stand guard here while you venture forth, through the spring and back again."

"I have to go into the water? Here?"

"Yes. You may disrobe behind a tree if you wish. I'll preserve your modesty and not watch, I assure you." She grinned as if amused by her own cheek. Severus, however, was not.

"You want me to dive in starkers? As cold as it is? You're mad!"

"And to that I can assure you, I am not. No fear, Severus. For earlier tonight, Miss Granger made the voyage as well and my brave little lioness was not near so timid."

Scathach tilted her head as if chiding him, then watched as he grumbled his way around the nearest bush, a large hawthorn, and began stripping down. He draped his shift and trousers over the branches to keep them clean and dry. Grudgingly he took off even his pants, as he had a feeling he was to go into the Underworld with nothing of this world.

With extreme ill humor he dipped a toe into the water, expecting an icy shock. To his surprise, though, he found that it was quite warm. For the first time, he noticed tendrils of steam rising off the water's surface and breathed a sigh of relief before stepping carefully onto the rocky bottom. He looked over to the side of the spring where he had left Scathach, to see her shift back on the boulder to lean against a tree, a twinkling fairy babe in the palm of her hand.

As he neared the center of the pond the ground dropped off sharply enough that he had to tread water. Unable to procrastinate any longer and unwilling to ask exactly what he should look for, Severus took a deep breath and submerged himself.

When he opened his eyes Severus could see warmer water streaming up through fissures in the rock below. He glided through the water, taking pleasure in the feel of it flowing across his skin, the warmth of it easing the tension out of his muscles. So relaxing was the feeling that he was tempted to float and forget the task he was charged to do. Before he could yield to that temptation, however, he spied a dark opening in the base of the hill. It was surprising, for he did not expect a literal entrance anywhere. Never one to back down though, Severus swam through the crevasse and through a short tunnel straight for the glowing light he could see beyond.

On breaking the surface, Severus realized that he had come out into an underground chamber. It was dark, except for a single candle on a ledge nearby. There too, waiting in the center of the cavern was Lasair.

"Welcome Severus," she smiled. "Mother will be waiting for your safe return, but for now, you are in my realm. The realm of mystery and the Underworld is the realm of dreams and visions, things you magical people seem to take very lightly considering what use they can be."

"Dreams and visions are both fleeting and almost impossible to grasp," Severus replied disparagingly.

"Yet as you wish to be skilled in all aspects of war you should be prepared to use any and all abilities to your advantage, is that not correct?"

"Certainly, but-"

"Then this is one more, and the more sharply honed it is, the easier it will come to you. The practiced you are, the more crystalline the images are; the more faith you have in your abilities, strangely enough, the more accurate they become. Are you ready to try?"

"What am I to see?"

"Whatever comes."

Severus took a deep breath, reminding himself that he did not back down from any challenge from anyone, let alone this slip of a girl who left him shivering with barely suppressed want. He was also vary aware of his nakedness and though her eyes had not traveled down, he was sure she had not missed his perceptible reaction to seeing her before him. He turned when she gestured to the candle gleaming against the wall and stepped over to it, more in an effort to hide his discomfort than to see what lay in store.

When he got there however, he saw a small pool of water with the light reflected on its surface. At the sound of her voice so close behind he nearly jumped, but years of training kept him in check and for this he was silently thankful.

"This pool is excellent for scrying, Severus. Here you can empty your mind of all and sundry."

Severus gazed for several moments into the flickering flame on the surface of the pool. He tried emptying his mind of things that flitted through, but the more he tried, the more thoughts came to the forefront, clouding the image of the candle. He attempted then to focus on the candle and found that staring at it made his eyes dry and start to water. Eventually, he got tired of the whole charade and relaxed. When he did, his eyes unfocused and the shifting of the flame took on the appearance of a wavering dance. It looked like people walking, side by side, and slowly changed to be just that.

He saw himself walking the darkened corridors of Hogwarts, striding alongside Lucius Malfoy as they dipped into an alcove and Lucius pulled up his sleeve to show Severus a writhing serpent on his arm. He felt the ardent jealousy of his boy self and the pang of loneliness, a sharp desire for belonging.

Then the scene shifted again to a nursery, where the outline of a woman's body had been taped across the floor, similar to the man's outline downstairs at the doorway. A little stuffed bear lay on the floor beside a crib and Severus felt a sharp stab of grief at the friend he had lost and the family he felt he had betrayed.

When he looked up, he stood on the banks of the dark lake back at Hogwarts again and there was Lily beside him. She looked older than when he'd seen her last, with the barest traces of lines around her eyes. Her hair was cut differently, and he was certain this must have been how she looked when she died, yet here she was smiling up at him.

"You've been busy," she said smiling at her own understatement.

"Lily, I'm sor-"

"No, Severus," she stopped him, raising a hand. "Everything happened as it was meant."

This bald statement rocked him to his core and he stood aghast, stricken with grief and sorrow before the anger took hold. "How do you mean? You were meant to die? So many others were meant to die such gruesome pointless deaths?"

"What few died did so as their purposes were to teach our world a lesson in tolerance and compassion. They died so that multitudes would not. So that our world could survive and grow a little stronger by coming together in concert to help each other and to defeat evil. That's no small sacrifice, Severus, and very worthy. Even the youngest souls set a contract before we come to this earth, a life's purpose that may even include death if it is to help others learn from it. So it was. But look, Severus, look at me. Am I really dead? Am I rotted in a hole in the earth or am I alive, very much as you remember and with all the vibrance you remember. It is me."

With that, she reached forward and took his hand, brought it to her face and brought her free hand up to touch his cheek.

"It is I who should apologize," she went on, before dropping her hand. "I am sorry I did not see the potential in you and the great man you have become. You've helped my son save our entire world. You've kept him safe, risked your own existence time and again. As your friend I did not have enough faith in you. But…if we believe in fate, I was not meant to see, and my blindness is what's brought you here-searching for someone who sees all this in you and more. We would not have worked, Severus, if I could not see you complete in yourself and love all of you."

She shook her head, smiling ruefully. "I don't believe you're arrogant enough for me."

Severus smiled at this, his eyes tearing even as he damned himself for them, "piss poor taste you have in men, Lily."

She laughed as well, tears springing to her eyes as she waved a hand toward the lake. "You can choose to be bitter at me and my choice in men for the rest of your life if you like, Severus. But look here and see what awaits you if you should choose to move on, to find what you deserve. Your own fate, here…"

She gestured over the water where he saw images shifting over the depths. He stepped away from her, stepped closer to the lake's edge and saw a sitting room with three children playing hide and seek. One stood against a built in bookcase, counting slowly and trying to peer through the crook of his arm while the other two crept stealth fully around the furniture and out of the room. One little girl stepped silently past the counting boy and hid behind a chair almost right next to him. From where he stood Severus could see her cobalt eyes shining with mirth at the fact that her brother had no idea how close she was to the safe spot.

He followed the other little boy from the room, a skinny child with lank black hair and a dimpled cheek. The boy started toward the bath, with the curtained tub partway open, then flicked a hand to close the curtain and dipped quietly into the hall closet instead. Severus smiled at the wiles of the child, who he realized with a start looked like a young version of himself.

As he listened to the counting wind down, a creak behind him on the upstairs landing sent him whirling and treading lightly up the stairs. To his right he could see a soft light glowing from one room, the door slightly ajar. He crept in, nearly tripped on the rug and righted himself by catching the back of a rocking chair. Looking around he spied a crib, with a baby rustling in the sheets as she fussed in her sleep. There were pink dressings to her bed and dark, flippy curls ringing her head as she coughed once and raised a fist by her head. He stood over the crib, scarcely believing how fragile the young thing looked. She sighed in her sleep, finally still, and he righted himself when he sensed someone behind him. He turned, seeing Lasair standing there, and fell to his knees shaken.

"Severus," she said rushing to his side, "you've been gone too long, there dearest. You're shaking like a newborn colt. No, don't stand yet."

Giving up on the idea of getting to his feet, Severus simply sat kneeling as the shakes overtook him. Lasair rubbed her hands up and down his arms.

"You were so deep I didn't want to draw you out, and there is so much you have need to see and settle in yourself still. Your anger has abated quite a lot since you have come, but your grief remains, so much of it, as an untapped well. You have to draw it out like a poison."

He looked into her eyes that were so dark now they appeared as fathomless as the pools of water he had been gazing into. As he did so, she seemed to sense exactly how close she was at this point to the naked man sitting nearly in her embrace. She stilled for only a moment, but just long enough he could sense her discomfort. It was just enough to make him feel as though he had gained the higher ground again after being wrong footed for so long. She rose quickly then, unaware that she had given anything away, and stepped to the back wall, retrieving yet another blue cup and saucer.

"Get you to the water's edge here, Severus," she said, bringing the tea to a spot where the water lapped at the cavern's edge. "There's a step here where you can sit in the water and warm up a bit. The tea is lavender and chamomile, sure to calm your nerves after such an ordeal."

Saying not a word, for his nerves were surely still jangling from the emotional storm still raging within, Severus sat on the underwater stoop so the water rose nearly up to his chest and true to her testament began to warm the chills away. She sat on a small flat outcropping of rock, hugging her knees and watching him slowly sip the calming brew. In silence they continued until the tea was gone and the tremors had subsided. Then, with barely a glance at her and a curt nod, Severus slid fully into the water and glided back through the tunnel to surface beside the bush. He dressed quickly, raising a hand to Scathach as he departed straight back to the oak tree and down to his barracks for the night, fully weary and wanting nothing but the stillness and quiet of sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Cht. 6, Of Dreams and Fantasies

Later that evening, Severus stood on the crest of the same hill, this time looking down into another small hollow, in the middle of which was a clearing ringed with light. Around the darkened edge of it, weaving through bushes and around trees was a narrow pathway. As he watched, a figure draped in a hooded cloak walked silently through to a huge willow tree quite a way beyond. Just before she dipped behind the draping branches, the girl drew her hood down around her shoulders and spared a glance over her shoulder.

Severus knew that profile anywhere, even in scant moonlight with a short crop of wavy hair just beginning to curl again at the ends. It was Hermione Granger, but what was she doing? Before he could even take a step, he watched amazed as she pointed a finger toward the ground and began tracing a ring of golden colored light around herself using the circle of branches as a natural boundary. As she completed the circle, the light lanced up, shutting out everything beyond and carving a magical layer of protection that kept out even the sight of what she was doing.

He watched for only a few minutes, surprised at the level of magic that she had apparently achieved thus far. True she was a singularly gifted witch, he was still reluctant to admit, but he had yet to be taught this magic. Frankly it rankled that Granger be exposed to it first. As he watched her glowing circle of protection, Severus made a note to ask when they would be allowed to learn such a useful bit of magic. Knowing it was jealousy, Severus acknowledged the feeling and wondering if and how he could approach Miss Granger to teach him this, perhaps in exchange for some help with the archery now that he had mastered it. She surely seemed to need it from what he had seen across field that day.

As he stood there musing, Severus sensed the presence of someone close by. Reaching for a wand that was no longer there, he spun and was caught up short when he saw not a person, but the same stag he had encountered his first night in the fairy world. He shook his rack and looked off to the distant clearing where another woman, shrouded in black was finishing the traces on her own magic circle. With hers, unlike Hermione's, he could see all that went on within the ring. Once she returned to the center, the woman raised her arms above her, saluting the waxing moon and then drew the cloak from her body revealing her naked form.

Severus sucked in a breath and his voice hitched, for he had been just on the verge of asking the horned one beside him what sort of ritual they were watching. He looked on instead, entranced as she began a slow sinuous dance. The night sounds around them seemed to pick up her rhythm and beat in time to her swaying, or was it the other way around, he thought. Severus was half tempted to start swaying himself, and felt his gaze raking over her curvy form swathed in moonlight and nothing else. Then suddenly remembering his companion, he cleared his throat and looked over at the stag, who flicked his ears at Severus' apparent discomfort. The gesture almost seemed amused somehow as the great beast tilted his head.

"Who are you," Severus asked in awe.

"I am Cernunnos, master of this forest, of dreams, of the Other realm where you would have come. Scathach and Cailleach saved you from me for the time being, but to me you will come eventually, as did your family and most of your friends, Severus."

"I am alone in this world," Severus said, not for the first time since Dumbledore had died. "There is no one I care for left."

"Is there?" said Cernunnos.

As he said this, Severus saw the woman turn in her dance, baring her face to the moon above. It was Lasair. Moonlight streamed over her face and hair, gleaming across the swell of her breasts, and Severus felt a throb of yearning pull through him. He looked back to make some comment to the stag god, but he was alone on the crest of the hill. Turning his head back to the hollow below, his breath caught. She was looking back at him, watching as if waiting to see what he would do. Wondering how she felt about the intrusion, Severus was about to make some attempt at apology when she stepped forward. Just one step, but he knew as one knows in dreams, that he was welcome into her circle.

He stepped lightly down the hill to the glowing barrier and looked up at Lasair. As if to answer his question, she inclined her head and he walked through. Letting his gaze drift down, wondering if he would be chastised for it, Severus took in the gentle curves of her body. He saw her quiver under his watchful eye like a filly who was unsure if she should bolt or come closer. Instead it was he again who closed the gap between them, his hand reaching up as if on its own accord and sweeping feather light across her cheek as though he was afraid she would vanish.

Her breath caught in her chest and Lasair's eyes closed. Her lashes an inky fringe on the apples of her cheeks, her lips parted as her tongue darted out to the lick them. Lasair tipped her chin up, waiting, and Severus, ever the opportunistic Slytherin dipped his mouth to hers and claimed it in one fluid motion. His arms snaked around her sides, a hand nestling in her hair and cradling the back of her head, the other grazing over the curve of her hip. His teeth caught her lower lip and nibbled, testing. Her mouth opened on a sigh and her back arched, fullness of her breasts sending shivers of recognition through him as he felt their yielding pressure against his own chest. He slid his tongue over hers, savoring the flavor of her and moaned aloud, only to sit bolt upright when someone beside him coughed.

He looked over to see that he was back in the all male bunker under the great oak. Cian, across the way, rolled over in his sleep and groaned even as Severus sighed softly at the unfortunate timing of his new friend. As he looked back over, however, he wondered where Cian's dreams took him and if Hermione played into them the way Lasair did into his. It was a strange world he found himself in, and he had a feeling that here dreams and reality were very much melded together indeed.


	7. Chapter 7

Cht. 7, Meeting Halfway

After the first snowfall of that year, when Severus was halfway through his term in the world of the fae, the Lammas festival commenced. The last crops of apples, potatoes, leeks, broccoli, cabbages, greens, and blackberries had all been brought in from the fields at the edge of the forest, and there was a huge feast to celebrate the time of year when everyone in that forest tribe came indoors and kept warm in their underground chambers.

There was a sampling of everything they had raised, but to Severus' surprise Scathach and her daughters began the meal by coming around to both of the tables, each of them offered blessings with whatever form of nourishment they carried.

As Latiaran rounded his table he noticed that she brought a platter of Lammas bread, a piece of which she popped into his mouth as she smiled. "May you never hunger," said the young fairy.

"May you never thirst," said Inghean, offering a large silver goblet of water as she spoke. Severus took a sip before she moved on to the next person down the row.

Finally came Lasair, with a basket of blackberries. As she offered him one of the tart fruits, she smiled and blushed softly. "May you always be prosperous and your life filled with abundance," she said warmly.

Scathach wandered down rows, stopping at each person in turn as well, but with no food or drink. Instead as she approached she asked, "what blessings are you thankful for, from this passing year?"

And it was a very amazed Severus who found that he did have things he was thankful for in his life. "Now I can honestly say I am thankful to be alive," he mused. "I never thought I would be, more that I just wanted to get this life over with and see what would be of the next, if there was one.

"I'm thankful for the chance to come here and train, to learn as much as I have in a place that I thought existed only in myth."

"And I'm thankful for the people I've met here," he said, surprising himself. "I've never met people who I found to truly appreciate me for what I am and accept me."

Scathach smiled, deeply touched at such a personal response. "And Severus, we are very thankful to have you here with us."

"Indeed," said Cian, clapping him on the shoulder. "You and your student." As he said this, Hermione glanced up and met his eyes. The girl turned a vibrant shade of pink and smiled shyly before ducking her head back into her friends' conversation at the table. Cian smiled broadly and propped his elbows behind him on the table watching the girls. After a second, he looked over at Severus and winked. "I'll personally thank you for that."

"And I'd thank you if you'd keep her," said Severus sardonically.

"Would you now?" quieried Cian interestedly.

Ignoring Cian, Severus watched Scathach and her daughters as they circulated. Just as he was about to turn, he saw Lasair offer a blackberry to one man at the end of the table. As he watched, the man sucked in the tips of her fingers, lingering a moment until he released her. Noting the flush on her cheeks, Severus' eyes narrowed. Lasair ducked her head and continued to the women's table without a word, but glanced back once to the dark-haired man.

"Who is that," Severus said, jerking a shoulder in the man's direction.

"Eh? Ferghus, you mean?"

"The dark one there, at the end," Severus said angling his head to get a better look as nonchalantly as he could.

"Aye, that's Ferghus," said Cian grudgingly. "He's a fearsome beast in the ring, that one. Seems he's everywhere at once."

"I thought that was you, funnily enough," Severus said dryly.

"Nah, you'd think so," said Cian laughing. "He's wicked fast and strong as a bear. You'd not want to tangle with him, that's sure."

"Happens I might," said Severus under his breath as the warrior queen and her daughters signaled the meal to begin. Turning into his plate, Severus stole a quick glance up to where Lasair was seated only to find her looking at him questioningly. When she saw him returning her gaze, she looked quickly back to her plate and turned to engage her youngest sister in conversation.

When the meal had finished and the tables cleared, Severus found himself in no mood for the dancing and festivities that followed. Claiming a headache from too much of the mead they had imbibed, he took a walk in an attempt to clear his thoughts. As much as they were in a jumble, he tired himself before he could quiet the jealousy he acknowledged that he felt raging since he had seen the exchange between Lasair and Ferghus.

Exhausted and troubled, he dipped back into the base of the oak and made his way to bed, skirting around the crowd in the hall and waving away Cian's attempts to draw him in.

In his dreams that night, Severus found himself again in the forest walking in an attempt to clear his head. Did Lasair have an interest in this man Ferghus? Did she have an interest in him? Did he warm her blood and fill her thoughts as she did him? Or did it even matter since in less than six months hence he would be married to some as yet unnamed woman?

Further, would he get his pick of the women here or would one be offered up like prize? Had she already been chosen? Surely Scathach would not part with one of her own daughters…

And as if summoned by his thoughts, there stood the warrior queen in front of him, blocking the path. She bore her spear, but held it as a staff.

"What would you ask of me, Severus," she questioned, as if in challenge.

"Would you send one of your own daughters forth into the world to couple with a mortal man?" Severus shot back.

"If it were their wish I would allow it. Yet each one of my daughters remains chaste, an unsullied warrior without the vice of lust to sway them. Were they to be sent in marriage however, it would be with a heavy heart that I would allow it, not only because they would live away from me, but because it would limit their lives as well. When one of the fae takes a mate not of this world and leaves to live with him, she is no longer immortal. She would age, get sick, die… No mother wishes to outlive her child."

"Better instead," Scathach continued wistfully, "that she marry another fae, so she may stay close and live out limitless years."

"Ultimately," she continued, her gaze sharpening again, "the choice is her own."

With that, she stepped aside to the edge of the path and gestured with the spear. "Better question is: what do _you _want yourself? See if you can find your heart's desire and see what it brings you. Can you get out of your own way from it, or will you go for what you want as you have never done before?"

Severus looked down the darkened path, wondering what was there. He looked back to ask Scathach what lay beyond, but she had vanished as was the nature of most things in his dreams. Taking that as his cue then, he slid stealthily into the darkness and strode down the path as silently as any of the fairy beings.

He thought of the message Scathach had essentially conveyed. It was a bleak existence that any of the fairy women would be condemned to for marrying him, whoever it was. To give up everything in this world and become mortal with it? It seemed a hefty price for one to pay for continuing the fairy lineage. How could one not be crushed by such a fate unless she loved the one she chose? Would love be enough? _Love is always enough_, he heard in his thoughts, _when it is combined with friendship and trust_. Did he and Lasair have that, he wondered. As he did so, he caught a flash of blue at the curve of the path ahead and picked up his pace.

Walking faster he could hear the swish of fairy silk on the path ahead. Taking a sharp turn he caught a glimpse of none other than Lasair ahead of him on the path, close enough that he knew it was her yet far enough away that his calls could not reach her. Waves of raven hair flying on the breeze and the cornflower kirtle she wore floating around dainty feet, she traipsed lightly down the path ahead of him, turning out of sight around another sharp bend that he knew led to a clearing.

When he broke into a jog to catch up, however, he saw not Lasair in the clearing but Ferghus. He was standing dead center, hands fisted on his hips. "Do you want her, Severus?" he queried mockingly.

Severus stopped short, faintly winded, and shocked at the turn of events. Rather than register any emotion at all, he instead stepped slowly up to Ferghus and sized him up.

"Is it your business whether I do or not?" he replied tersely.

"Well, to get her, you'll have to get through me first," he laughed. And taking a step to the side, his appearance began to alter. His face became softer, his eyes changing to a murky brown, his hair lightening to brown and bushing out in an unkempt look. Severus blink, only to find that when he opened his eyes again there were glasses perched on the man's nose.

"You again," Severus breathed, his voice hitching with the scarcely contained venom that threatened to spew forth. "What is it you want?"

"It's the very same again isn't it?" replied James. "You're chasing after a girl who belongs to someone else, who doesn't know you're alive Snivellus."

"Bollocks!" Severus raged. "She belongs to who she chooses and she bloody well kissed me back, didn't she? It's up to her, and you'll not stand in my way or I will mow you down," he ground out.

"Go get her then," Potter laughed, stepping out of the way, "if she'll have you that is."

Without another word, Severus stormed past and down the darkened path. Once out of the clearing, James Potter visage vanished to reveal Ferghus' again. He looked over to Cian, who climbed silently out of the shrubbery beside him.

"Where is Lasair tonight," Ferghus asked, clasping hands with Cian.

"Sleeping peacefully I'd say. Leastways, she's not traveling about tonight."

Ferghus chuckled deeply and kept an eye on the edge of the clearing where Severus had disappeared. "It's a wild goose chase he'll be having this evening then."

"Aye," said Cian looking on as well. "That he'll do."


	8. Chapter 8

_I know, I know, I know…I'm not making promises, but I will try to at least finish this story and my other Sev fic, "Deep Roots" by the end of summer. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!_

Cht. 8, Illumination and Inspiration

Through the long bleak winter they trained below ground, rarely venturing out. It took a while after that first hard freeze for the cold to permeate into their bunker, but once it did every room kept a fire of peat or wood to chase the chill away. As the equinox approached, Severus and the other initiates passed the time sparring, both with magic and might now, as they prepared for the great hunt that would be coming up in a few months' time, just before he was due to marry and return to the wizarding world.

By the time the equinox came, he had less than three months left of his stay and Severus dreaded his return to Hogwarts and all it entailed. He had traveled there in dreams and heard Harry's pronouncement. He knew that he would be lauded a hero, and yet every time he thought of Lasair and her quiet ways, he yearned to stay a bit longer.

On the day of the equinox, whilst everyone else was preparing for more festivities after the long winter below ground, Severus and Hermione trekked silently up the rocky crag above Caer spring. They were to spend a three-day vigil with Latiaran, the youngest of Scathach's daughters. She would be teaching them air magics, and for this they came to stand at a large flat grassy ledge near the top of the hill.

Latiaran stood ready, long bright red tresses in a tight braid with little wisps blowing in a stiff breeze. Her garb was that of her mother's, and she looked every bit a younger version of Scathach in her green tunic and tanned doe hide breeches. She smiled and bid them welcome, eager to get started.

"You have both already learned to communicate like this," she said, sending her thoughts to them in the telepathy they had both mastered. "If I might ask, how did you find it so easy to do? For that is typically my first lesson to novices."

"It's a bit like non-verbal spells, really," said Severus, winging his thoughts back to her. "Instead of intending to send magic to a person, you are intending your thoughts to be heard. I suspect it's something of how the D-Voldemort would project his thoughts over a broad area. Instead we're projecting our thoughts to one person. Privately, in lieu of publicly, as it were."

"Good on you, then. And you, Hermione. So now, this first bit should be easier as well. Magic comes much faster to you now. I've seen you do this yourself already when you think no one sees," she said, chiding Severus. "First stir a gentle breeze. Light and airy, there you go."

Between Severus and Hermione both, a collision of cool wind kicked up and swirled into a will-o-the-wisp, blowing leaves and loose bits of grasses astray in a small whirlwind.

"Oh well done, both of you. Well done. Make it stronger, fiercer now. Bend the treetops."

And the wind became a gale, just as she asked. Hermione and Latiaran both staggered in their standing positions and Severus barely held his ground as they saw the heaviest branches of trees below them sway and bend. Somewhere below they heard a shout and someone's hat came skimming over the top of the hill. Once again Severus and Hermione's winds clashed to the sound of thunder and began to rush and swirl together.

"That's grand!" shouted Latiaran laughing. "Well and good, now! Take it down!"

Before the cyclone could really begin to do damage, it all quieted to a breeze again. Severus flicked a hand and sent the hat winging back down to the settlement somewhere below.

"Brilliant! Let's move on, shall we? I'd say we have that mastered, and on to the next," said Latiaran gaily. She turned on her booted heel and began stepping down the path they had come up, stopping at an opening about a third of the way down. She dipped in, behind a gorse bush that was partially covering the cave and at once light flickered to life within.

"Tomorrow we will aid you only, Hermione, in doing a walkabout," she said once they made their way inside. "It takes hours to prepare and to go along, though I suspect you have both been doing so unconsciously in your dreams for sometime," she added, a merry twinkle in her eye that looked uncannily like Dumbledore's.

"You've had only a light meal this morning, haven't you?" the fairy asked as she stepped away from the entrance and into the cavern proper. As she did so, a fire on the far wall lit itself, illuminating a small fireplace that had been hollowed into the rock sending fragrant piny smoke up through the top of the hill.

"Just some porridge and blackberries. We were instructed not to eat anything too heavy, so it was a small bowl."

"Good, you should be hungry again after such a trek up, yes?" She led the way toward a small pallet on the floor in front of the fireplace. It was flanked by two cushions with a table nearby holding a steaming brown betty with cups and saucers and two cloth-covered baskets.

Hermione nodded in the affirmative. "Erm, yes, a bit."

"If you will, sit here," said the redhead, gesturing to the pallet before she nudged a small, low table closer and kneeled on one of the cushions. "You can have a cuppa before we move on to preparations."

Severus kneeled down on the other cushion as Hermione sat down on the pallet; Latiaran busied herself with cups and saucers, pouring the familiar fragrant brew of lavender and chamomile blossoms, with a slight tang of mugwort. It was the same concoction, Severus mused, that Lasair had used to warm and center him after his scrying lesson. He did vaguely remember listening to Trelawney wax on about the powers of both in relaxing the mind to be able to See, but since it had come from her, he barely paid it any mind at the time.

Once done with the cups, Latiaran opened the baskets to reveal a large heel of bread, a small wheel of cheese and an assortment of apples and berries. Though it was a light meal, they ate their fill before setting about unloading the packs they had worn up. The pallet on which Hermione sat was reserved for the 'walkabout' as Latiaran called it. The three had brought their own bed rolls, as well as large hanks of rosemary, a small pot of ointment each which Scathach claimed would aid in their journeying, and more food and water. They staked their claim on three different spots in the cavern, one side of which held a screened off bath area, complete with a large copper tub and large commode, which luckily evanesced the contents.

That afternoon, and into the evening hours, they whiled away their time relaxing before the next day's events. Latiaran regaled them with stories of things she had seen in training. Hermione witnessed the first laugh she had ever heard from her professor as the fairy delighted them both with a story of Cian, who had rolled and slid straight down that very hill during one rainy season.

In the evening they shared another cup of tea before bed with the remaining cheese and bread. Latiaran insisted on light meals to keep them from feeling so weighted down and lethargic. It kept their minds sharp so they didn't feel the need to dip into sleep as they journeyed. Just before sleep that night though, the girl sprinkled a few handfuls of powdered sage onto the red embers. Severus' nose wrinkled at the smell and Hermione sneezed, eliciting a good-natured laugh from Latiaran.

"It may not be fragrant, but thanks to this little herb your night should be restful and free of dreams."

With that, still smiling, she stepped over to her own makeshift bed and wished them both goodnight before draping the simple blanket over her and closing her eyes.

Next morning, after kipping on the rolled packs they had brought, they shared a sparse breakfast of fruit with seeds and nuts. Knowing what powerful magic lay ahead of them, the trio ate in silence before Severus was ushered out of the cave, left to his own musings on the hilltop proper. Whilst he was above, Latiaran began preparations for the ritual itself as Hermione bathed. The cave was fragrant now, from the hanks of rosemary added to the bathwater and a few more smoldering on the edge of the fire with some small chips of sandalwood and sprigs of dittany.

When Hermione rose from the water, Latiaran dabbed a small bit of the poplar ointment between her eyes, at the hollow of her throat, just under her ribcage and at the top of her head. Upon finishing, Hermione was draped in a deep-dyed shift the color of indigo and smelling of lavender. With that, Latiaran silently gestured to Hermione to lay down on the pallet, before she stepping quietly out to beckon Severus back inside.

They kneeled on either side of the supine girl, each one gently covering one of her hands with their own. "Breathe deep," Latiaran whispered gently, "breathe in the fragrant air and find yourself drifting into a relaxed state. Leave your worries behind to blow away on the breeze."

Severus watched as Hermione's breathing regulated, slow and deep, and her eyelids began to move rapidly.

"Feel yourself drift away, let yourself move where it will…" the fairy trailed off, leaving an open suggestion that Hermione could travel to anywhere beyond.

_As her mind drifted, her body feeling like a limp piece of rope, Hermione found herself winging away to Hogwarts and floating over the grounds where it appeared clean-up from the aftermath of the battle had begun._

_Healers in lime-green robes picked around bodies, still trying to do some form of triage to discern the worst of the worst that could still be saved. Scarlet robed Aurors ushered shackled and wandless Death Eaters into queues toward a makeshift apparition point where they were whisked away one at a time for processing into waiting cells at the Wizengamot._

_Within the castle itself, she watched as those still alive and even some walking wounded cleared the largest piles of rubble out of doorways and assisted Aurors and Healers in rounding up those who needed to be taken away. She saw Harry and Luna working side by side, draping bodies with sheets. Ron and Hannah Abbott tended to those with small injuries, bandaging burns and scrapes with murtlap essence and dittany._

_Focusing in on the two, she could barely perceive a thin golden cord connecting the two, right at chest height. Knowing that they were connected, without understanding or questioning how she knew, Hermione felt that left to his own devices, Ron would get over her eventually and find comfort with kind, even-tempered Hannah._

_A flash of blonde drew her attention to Draco Malfoy, who was stooped over a prone form as he traced his wand over open wounds. She drifted closer, hearing him recite the same spell that she knew Severus had used on the boy after he and Harry fought in Myrtle's washroom. Hermione watched entranced as the wounds knitted themselves back together and Draco, the heretofore bane of her existence, nodded in grim satisfaction. _

_Just beyond him sat his parents in a tensely quiet conversation. Almost palpably, she could sense a wave of dour resignation from Lucius Malfoy and an air of dejection from Narcissa. She caught the phrase, "politically expedient" from the elder Malfoy, who squared his shoulders and set off to a corner of the room where Arthur Weasley attempted to levitate a large piece of rubble that blocked the door to the kitchens. She saw Arthur glance over as Lucius spoke, nod once, and step aside as Malfoy raised his wand as well, the two men completing the task where one could not. _

_She turned back to Narcissa to see the woman still seated, wringing her hands and watching as though at a loss. At that moment, Harry Potter came through the doorway to the great hall and seeing her alone, seated himself beside her and extended his hand saying, "thank you. It may not have ended quite the same way had you not done what you did." With a tremulous smile, Hermione was amazed to see, the lady took his hand in hers and replied, "thank you, for saving my son."_

No sooner had she seen this, then Hermione felt hands clasp hers and a whisper on the breeze that said, "come back to us, Hermione. You have traveled far too long already." With that, she felt herself speeding back through castle walls, across the grounds and through the forest, miles rushing by on the wind.

"Slowly, slowly now," the whispered voice urged, and Hermione felt herself obeying. She drifted over the river and through thickets of woods, the clearings where her fellow students staged mock battles and finally, to their darkened cave at the top of Caer Spring. With a _whoosh_, she felt herself slide right back into body and jolt awake as Severus' hand tensed over hers.

"Oh my!" she breathed, "that was…I have no words for it!" She tried sitting up, but Latiaran would have none of it.

"Be still you, you've had quite a travel this day and will be light-headed with it. Collect yourself first and I'll be getting your tea."

Still feeling Severus' hand on hers, she squeezed it gently, feeling all at once as weak as a kitten. She took a deep breath and looked into the eyes of the man kneeling before her and burst into tears.

"It's all over," she gasped. "V-Voldemort's dead and they're clearing the castle of bodies and wounded, and-" she gulped. "I don't even think they've realized I'm gone."

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger," said Severus, so rattled that it came out as a breathless whisper. "This was quite an ordeal."

"But, Pr-_sir_, it was amazing," she replied. "I'm simply overwhelmed at the details of everything I saw and heard."

Latiaran again approached with a small platter of food and a cup of steaming tea. Hermione sat up gingerly and glanced around, noting for the first time how dark the cave had become. Looking at the door, she realized how long she had truly been gone, for though it was early afternoon when she began her journey, the opening of the cave showed that it was now full dark outside.

As she sipped her tea, Latiaran gently probed her to tell what all she had experienced, from the sensations she felt to what she had observed of the scenes playing out before her. Severus listened intently, only occasionally punctuating her story with a question or two.

By the time she had finished, and despite the repast, Hermione was thoroughly drained and ready for bed. And when they drifted off to a dreamless sleep again that night, thanks to Latiaran's peppering the dying fire with sprigs of sage, Severus' mind was full of wonder at the fact that his dreams and visions had not lied, for the Dark Lord was at last dead.

Latiaran- pron. Lah-TEAR-uhn


	9. Chapter 9

_Sorry as always, but there is an end in sight to this! I have the chapters planned out, and simply need to get them typed out and posted. And now I have real incentive to get this done in the next few months. Call it a resolution, but every WIP will be completed by mid-April. Scout's honor._

Cht. 9, Confidential Confidences

The next day's dawn crept in a pale pink, heralding a beautiful day ahead. Severus, now more in tune with the ways of nature, considered it a good sign for his impending lesson. Their day ran much as the day before, with a light breakfast, and very little talking. More, it was a time of reflection and clearing one's thoughts.

Toward mid-day Latiaran herself made up his bathwater, again sprinkled with bits of rosemary and other herbs. She lay a few hanks as well on the edges of a smoldering fire and busied herself with preparations while he lowered himself into the screened off tub. He sighed deeply, allowing his mind to wander where it would. More than once it returned to Lasair, and what she might be doing down the hill with the others.

He wondered, as always, what the next few months would bring, particularly the wedding and all that came afterwards. He wondered at how he would be received when he returned to Hogwarts and the magical community, and moreover he wondered how his ethereal bride-whomever she was-would be received, as well as the tale that surely required telling of how he came to be wed when everyone believed him dead.

Then too, he wondered if anyone had checked on his body. Before he could dwell overmuch on the thought, he heard Latiaran clearing her throat softly just on the other side of the screen. She draped another indigo colored shift over the screen's edge and he watched her shadowed form move away and turn to the pallet in the center of the cave floor. At that point, Hermione stepped back into the cave as if sensing that the time had come.

Within minutes, he was dried and dressed, lying on the ground between the two women. They lay their hands gently over his as he drifted off to a quiet place in his mind, lulled by Latiaran's soft voice.

"Let yourself drift," she said, "and find yourself floating away on the breeze to wherever you choose to land."

_By that point he was already winging his way down the hill swiftly as a sparrow spanning the lengths of forest, straight back to their camp. He saw the newest neophytes lugging huge baskets of produce from the fields into the opening in the hollow of the tree. _

_In the clearings there were students thrusting and parrying in mock battles with staffs, others training in hand-to-hand combat tactics and still more using solely magic. Beyond them, in a clearing nearest the fields, stood Ferghus using both magic and sheer strength with physical skill. _

_He watched, in spirit, alongside a group of more advanced students as Ferghus traded and blocked blows from Declan, another trainer. With a swift spin the russet-haired man transformed into a large gray wolf before their very eyes. Not to be outdone, Declan stepped back and shifted into a lumbering bear who reared up and swatted a huge claw at the snapping and snarling beast on the ground. Before he could land a blow, however, Ferghus shifted again, this time into a long thick rattlesnake to which Declan promptly traded his form for a mongoose. Ferghus shifted back again, a sheen of sweat across his brow line and watched as Declan moved back to his own form and the men reached across the dusty circle and clasped hands laughing and tired._

_With a thought, Severus moved away, winging through the crowd across the fields and into the forest. His thoughts took him straight to Lasair, who stood in a simple kirtle as she washed out linens and shifts with a few other girls. The gown was a thinner weave and clung to her legs with damp from wading into the water for the laundry. She turned, clipping a long shift onto a line strung up between the trees and her hair caught the light, shining with a coppery cast to her soft brown tresses. _

_Severus felt his chest ache with want, yearning for this girl-this woman, he corrected himself-who called to his spirit with her own. "Lasair," he whispered, and started when she looked up and around as if she had heard him. She looked, for a long moment, just off to the side of him, as if sensing his presence. He saw her mouth his name, for her voice was too soft to reach him, before she shook her head and resumed hanging clothes from the basket at her feet._

"Severus," he heard another voice in his head say, "it's time you were back with us." Recognizing Latiaran's voice beckoning, he found himself flying back over field and meadow again, up the hill before sliding back into his body like a hand into a well-fitted glove. His eyes fluttered open and he wiggled fingers and toes as instructed, to get himself used to physical sensations again.

He sensed Hermione move quietly away toward the kettle by the fire. Latiaran herself patted his hand once more and reached for the basket of food they had nearby to help ground him again. Before he could take the tea or fruit offered though, he realized what state his spying on Lasair had left him in, and launched himself to his feet. "Severus! You're far too weak still!" Latiaran called after him.

Ignoring the fae princess, he staggered out the door and back down the path to where the trees marked the beginning of the forest. He stood before a small brook, similar to the one he had seen Lasair doing the washing in, and allowed his mind to fill with the vision he had just left. Again in his mind's eye he saw her slight form in the flimsy gown, draping softly down from her high rounded breasts, the wet cloth clinging to her delicate legs and her dark brown waves streaming down her back. He pictured those light fingers touching him instead of the linens and felt himself grow stiffer still. Here alone, knowing no one had followed him, he allow the fantasy of her to fill his mind.

He lifted the shift with one hand, only to grasp his turgid length with the other and let his image of this fairy girl take over stroking the veiny flesh. He could see her almost as clearly as if she were standing before him, lips slightly parted, chest heaving with desire as her breath quickened with his. He saw her step back, untying the string gathering the neckline of her kirtle and drawing it down over the shoulders to pool at her feet. All too soon he felt the tightening, heralding his climax and watched with a shudder as his seed emptied out onto the bare ground. Sighing deeply, and feeling more lightheaded than before, he dropped the shift back and brushed off a bit of stray lint. He kneeled carefully to the ground and splashed some cool water on his face from the brook, drank deeply as he was parched, and slowly rose to climb the hill once more.

If the ladies noticed anything amiss in his appearance prior to his departure, they did not let on. Instead Latiaran regaled him with the many reasons not to try too physical a task so soon after a walkabout. Hermione simply regarded him as a puzzle that needed figuring out. Either way, Severus allowed himself to be plied with a large crust of bread, the remaining cheese and an apple before they all turned in for the evening.

The next morning they rose early. Severus, since he had been thoroughly drained, slept through another dreamless sleep like the proverbial dead. Waking only to find Hermione shaking out her blanket and Latiaran cleaning the ash from the fireplace, he shifted and stretched. Both women looked up and greeted him when he rose, yet Severus, being a poor conversationalist first thing, merely grunted and moved to the commode for his morning ablutions. He ate a hurried breakfast and began clearing up his bedding as well, packing it for the trip back.

Latiaran ushered them on when they had finished, urging them not to wait while she cleaned and cleared the site. Taking her word that they were not needed, Severus began a quiet trek down the path with Hermione close behind. For several minutes, neither of them spoke, and Severus ultimately surprised himself when he broke the silence. He turned back once, to see Hermione deep in thought.

"I confess myself rather amazed, Miss Granger," he said. "I would think it unlike you to go for such a space of time without a word."

Well used to his acerbic humor by now, Hermione simply replied, "Hermione. I'd prefer now if you'd call me Hermione."

"If that's alright," she added quickly.

"Severus, then," was his only reply. For some moments more they remained quiet, then he smirked as her voice this time broke the silence. It seemed she could not keep her counsel after all, he thought.

"I think I'm still processing everything that I saw," she said, by way of introducing a topic. "I mean, it wasn't just being there and seeing things as they were happening, was it? I felt like I could feel what everyone else was feeling, or just a bit of it, really."

"As did I," he replied. And he had. He remembered feeling a punch of adrenaline and showmanship watching the boys fight, as he had sensed a lighter feeling of wistfulness emanating from Lasair. "I suppose it's the way that sort of magic works. In spirit we feel more things, other senses are heightened and perceptive without the encumbrance of our bodies."

"Perceptiveness is a good word," she said, seeming to struggle with something. He glanced back once and she appeared to wrestle with the words, her forehead puckered. "I saw-I saw Ron…with Hannah Abbott. They were clearing a lot of the damage and rubble. But I noticed a cord, a sort of filament between them that was gold. A brilliant gold, like it emanated light or something. And I knew…somehow…that they were connected more intimately than we ever would be."

She ended on a whisper, a sort of wistful plaintiveness to her voice. "It makes me wonder if I have my own cord attached to someone. I think I knew that, deep down, he and I would never be. I always felt-like, erm-well, like I was kissing my brother. If I'd had one. I never really could bring myself to go much further with him."

Severus looked back again to see a creeping flush spread from her neckline up to her short curls. "I did think that you were a bit closer to him than you were with Potter, or at least it seemed so. Am I to take it then that you have never given yourself to someone?"

He had no idea what made him ask it, but before he could take the statement back she answered, "no! erm, no…I suppose I've always been more old-fashioned about that sort of thing. I really want to know that I have a true relationship-a real commitment before…that."

Severus nodded glumly ahead of her. In for a penny, he thought… "I, likewise have never bothered." He could sense her tense behind him with shock at what he divulged. "No doubt…no doubt, you have heard by now of where my affections lied for the longest time."

"Yes," she said a bit guiltily, for in her dreams she had traveled back and heard Harry's pronouncement of Snape's true allegiances.

"Well, as that naturally never came to any fruition, I ultimately channeled my energies into other avenues. Making advancements in potion making, keeping my dueling skills sharp, thanks to Filius and Albus. I did attempt a few dalliances in the ten year respite I had between wars, but they never ignited that spark in me and most of the women were so vacuous I tired of them all too easily. Then the Dark Lord returned and all energies went to stamping him out again… In the end, any relationship would have been far too much of a liability and frankly speaking the very thought of any of the slatternly wretches in Knockturn Alley turn my stomach."

"There hasn't been anyone you've wished for since?" Hermione ventured softly as they walked slowly through the trees that now thinned out around them.

"I would not put it out of my mind entirely now," Severus began. Then he added, "before long, after all, I am to be married. As are you, in fact."

They now walked amiably, almost companionably, side by side now that the path had widened and they were nearing the settlement again.

"Yes," she said, her face a mix of trepidation and a spark of hope.

"Is there someone who has caught your eye here?" he wondered aloud, amazed still at this sharing of confidences that he himself had invited.

"I admit," she said slowly, the flush creeping up again, "there is someone."

"But," she added resolutely. "It's not who we want so much as who we're given isn't it?"

Severus nodded resignedly. "That is quite true." 

* * *

A bit of a cliffhanger, I know, but understand that with this (yay!) lengthy chapter comes the promise of an ending soon. Keep posted!


	10. Chapter 10

_Lots of action going on in this one. It really is the culmination of the story but a couple more chapters remain. Never fear! Nearly there._

Cht. 10, Anniversary Eve

On May Eve day Morgana, one of the female teachers, gave them their last lesson, this time in earth magics. This began, strangely enough, by her showing them how to germinate and grow a plant seemingly from nothing-a thing their wizarding magic said was impossible.

"But it is not 'nothing'," Ana explained, "for the world is nothing but the potential for life to grow. Every new thought you have is a creation, an idea which your wizards of old never considered when they made some of the 'laws' of magic you learned in your disciplines."

"That thought is the seed, your magic and intent are water and sunlight to it."

After many attempts, Severus succeeded in growing a venomous tentacula, which made them all laugh when it spread its spiky baby vines out and tried to latch around his ankles. With a flick of the wrist it sank back into the earth as a mere potential again. Once Hermione raised a sunflower higher than her own head, Ana declared them ready for the next step, where both students learned to make the earth itself shake and rend and afterwards they learned to seal it up again as though nothing had taken place.

Satisfied with their progress, Ana sent them down for a light noonday meal before their final combative test began.

* * *

Their final battle, however, was the culmination of everything they had learned. They used the discipline from their heavy tasks and chores, which had built them physically and mentally. They used instinct, reflexes sharply honed by months of intensive skirmishes and drills. More than that, they used their magical skills, which had now been greatly expanded by their learning here at this martial compound of the fae.

And so it began, as Hermione stepped into the ring of spectators to face off with Morgana. The elder faery circled, her auburn curls plaited into a thick braid at her waist, and set off by an ochre tunic and tan breaches. She looked like a Celtic warrior. Hermione dropped into a crouching defensive stance and began to circle as well. Severus and the others called encouragement to both sides and watched in tense excitement as Hermione sent a quick ball of fire at Ana, who deflected by turning it to mere smoke.

In retaliation she arced a spear of bright light straight to Hermione's feet, who was momentarily blinded by the assault. Working purely on instinct, Hermione sent a cloud of thick fog through the ring. Ana took that opportunity instead to apparate to the spears set on a rack nearby and took one. Hermione, seeing her pop back to the circle summoned one quickly and began lunging and thrusting against her attacker. She rolled back over her shoulder, came to a standing position and tapped the ground with the end of her spear, setting it quaking under Ana's feet and nearly toppling her off balance.

With a wave of her spear, Ana set the earth still again. At the same time, Hermione took the distraction as her cue to roll over the spear and come up in a leg sweep that sent Ana sprawling on her backside even as Hermione lowered the spear to her throat. Ana, who had dropped her own spear when she fell, laughed and raised a hand for Hermione to help her up.

"Well met, Hermione, well met," she smiled, and raised Hermione's hand to the cheering crowd.

* * *

When it was his turn, Severus faced off, as he had somehow known he would, with Ferghus. He jumped straight into attack mode by raising a devil's snare at Ferghus's feet which rose sharply up and circled him, tightening its grip. All at once, however, the plant turned brown, stopped growing, and broke apart as Ferghus raised his arms. They circled a bit, coming close and trading blows, backing out again on the defensive, both crouched low and watching the other's eyes for their next move.

Ferghus dropped quickly to the ground, spinning a leg around the axis of his body, which Severus neatly leaped over to the avoid being swept down. Ferghus rolled safely away over his shoulder, yet when he came to standing Severus raised a fist and sent a sharp spear of shale shooting up from the ground. Ferghus deftly spun on his heel and turned back facing Severus as a great grizzly bear. Not to be outdone, Severus dropped to all fours as a jaguar and stalked circles around the towering bear before snapping quickly back to himself again.

Ferghus instead changed into a tiger, whereupon Severus summoned a spear, only to set the end to light and sway it before the tiger's eyes. Ferghus backed up, his lips curled into a snarl and popped back to his own shape. The sheen of sweat Severus had noticed in the mock battle he had witnessed from the hilltop proved Severus' hypothesis that changing form more than once was draining.

Taking advantage of the fact, Severus rolled forward over his shoulder, knocking Ferghus to the ground and raising his fist above him. Flattened under the force of Severus' body, Ferghus, smiling breathlessly said simply, "yield."

Backing up to stand, Severus reached a hand out to Ferghus who used the leverage to haul himself up, then swatted Severus' backside with his other hand. "Cracking good match that was, lad!" And laughing, his chest still heaving, Ferghus reached out to clasp hands with Severus before placing a hand on either side of Severus' astonished face and smacking him soundly on the lips.

"I need a stout ale after that one, boys!" he said as he traipsed by into the hollow of the tree. Thoroughly perplexed at the good-nature of the losers in these matches, Severus barely noticed as people came up and clapped him on the back, congratulating him on the successful completion of the course.

* * *

Later that night, the bonfires were lit in celebration of the students' success, as well as the next day's nuptials. The men readied themselves for a hunt, donning thick tunics and deer hide pants, as the night air still held a bit of chill even in late spring. Severus and Cian both slung quivers over their shoulders and stepped out into the white light of the moon.

They tracked for what seemed like hours keeping close to the stream in case any deer made the mistake of going for a nighttime drink. They startled a young doe and her fawn under a large fern, and after another long while they came across Ferghus, who smiled and raised a finger to his lips before pointing down at the moist soil running alongside the creek bank. There they spied them, delible prints in the soft dirt. Large deer tracks. Ferghus winked at them before splitting off again, a bit deeper into the trees.

"Here's where I leave you too then," whispered Cian softly. "Best of luck mate."

Severus clasped hands with him as they separated and he shuffled on silently. He listened intently now for anything walking through the undergrowth, but only heard the swooping of an owl or rustle of the breeze in the trees, the trickle of water over rocks in the stream bed. Then, at last, he heard the unmistakable clatter and clash of antlers and the grunt of two bucks competing for dominance. He stilled, trying to make out the direction, and at the moment he deduced it, he heard another sound altogether, the clear whistle of an arrow shot from a bow.

Within seconds, a great crashing and rustling issued from the bushes not twenty paces from where he was standing. Without thinking, he slid the arrow into his quiver, notched it and let it fly, just at the moment a great stag came leaping out of the tree line. It sailed swiftly and surely, lodged into its target, and the large buck dropped to the ground.

It was Declan who joined him to help truss it up and return it to the camp, where the bonfires blazed still, ready for roasting. On making their way back, the men found Cian and another student cleaning a second stag. Both would provide the meat for their wedding dinner the following day. There would be one to stuff with fragrant herbs and roast slowly over the fire, and another to smoke and cure overnight.

* * *

Severus kneeled an hour or so later, washing the blood and innards from his hands, his mind on the impending events that would come with the rising of the sun not a few hours hence. Deciding to take a walk to clear his head, he found his feet taking him back up the path to the hill where he set out for his first walkabout. He ambled through the deep dark of the woods, not with any particular purpose, other than to prolong his return to the camp, his bed, and the marriage that awaited him, now nearly at hand.

When he came out of the thickest of trees along the narrow path, he spied another further ahead. Hearing him treading, though softly behind, the cloaked figure turned and seeing him, dropped her hood to stand bathed in moonlight as he approached.

"Word is you had a successful night of it, Severus," smiled Lasair when he came to stand before her.

"I have," he replied, "and Cian as well."

"Should you not be abed at this hour, surely? It's a long day you've had, and another tomorrow." She turned and despite the narrowness of the path, they walked closely together up it, to the rise of the hill and the cave beyond.

"I cannot sleep. My mind is too full of things…finishing up here, making good at it. Returning to the wizarding world, all the questions I'll surely have at that. I'm not entirely sure I won't be jailed."

"You'll be lauded a hero. That I have seen."

As they reached the mouth of the cave and stepped in, she took his hand and rubbed it. Her other hand she raised and with it, leapt flames in the fireplace.

"You're chilled overmuch, and this should warm you."

"I am warm already," he answered tenderly, his dark eyes softening at her smile.

"You are, if I am not much mistaken very worried about what's to come."

"Not worried, no. I regret leaving this place. I've felt more comfortable here, more kindness here than I may have had my whole life. People here have genuinely liked me and wanted my company, not for any purpose but to have it. Not for what good I could do them. I hate to leave it behind. More…," and at this he hesitated, "more than that, I hate the thought of never seeing you again. I never get to see or talk to you unless in my dreams, and yet I feel as though you know me better than anyone. You call to me every time I close my eyes."

"I've felt it too," she said softly, "a calling from your spirit to mine. I've seen you in my dreams these many nights."

"Then spend this night with me, here," he said, brushing his fingertips over her hair. "Stay."

With that, she untied the ribbon of her cloak and draped it over the ground. "Come to me then," she replied, and he stepped nearer. He trailed his fingertips down her cheek, traced the soft line of her neck, and dipped them back to cup her head as she tipped up for a kiss.

Their lips met, brushing tentatively at first. Severus, emboldened by her sigh of pleasure, licked lightly at her bottom lip and traced his tongue around hers, savoring the taste of her at last. His other hand glided down the contour of her body and he eased her back and down onto the cape over the floor. He stretched himself over her, their bodies molding together and neither noticed as the flames licked higher, grazing the top of the fireplace and setting shadows dancing across the walls of the cave.

They spent those final darkest hours of the night touching, tasting, savoring each other and finally joining in the oldest dance, ushering in Beltane exactly as it was meant.


	11. Chapter 11

Cht. 11, A year and a day

When the first shafts of dawn's light crept through the mouth of the cave, Severus woke to find Lasair already gone. He was covered with his own cloak, which he had worn during the hunt. He stepped into his clothes, folded neatly nearby, and traipsed back down the hill wondering sullenly if he would ever see his fae princess again, or if she might avoid seeing him before he set off to meet his destiny.

When he came along to the fork of the trail that led off towards the spring and away from camp he heard a soft snuffling. Fearing that he may find Lasair deep in regret over their actions of the night before, he hurried swiftly over that stretch of forest and came out in the clearing by the pond.

There he found not Lasair, but Hermione, sitting by the boulder and wrapped in a cloak, yet still shivering and weeping as though her heart was breaking. At his appearance she swiped a fist across her eyes and tried to clear them, but the tears trickled down unheeded and she hiccupped once.

"I take it you have your own regrets regarding this fateful day," Severus ventured. "I confess, I too am loathe to fulfill it."

He kneeled down beside her and used the edge of his cloak to wipe her cheeks.

"How am I going to bear being married to someone I don't love-let alone, know?"

"Perhaps that is the price we pay for this knowledge. That we may keep our lives, learn such lessons as we have here, yet leave our hearts behind."

"I wanted it s-so badly when we started this," she said in gasping sobs. "I came s-straight from the battle. I had been facing Yaxley and Alecto Carrow; I felt almost powerless against them. Like everything I had known and learned up to that point simply wasn't enough. That was what I felt just before Yaxley brought a tree branch down on my head. It was the last thing I remembered, that powerless feeling."

"I remember that as well, from my youth. Having an overbearing father and no power to combat him with, except for fledgling magic. Playground bullies both at muggle school and Hogwarts. I learned all I could to counter and defend. That was how I first delved into the dark arts; I wanted a way to go on the offense, get them before they got me. And it was a seedy seduction, wanting that power. It's a high like no other drug. It's lucky that here they temper such knowledge and power with teaching humility as well."

"Is that why you wanted the dark arts job? To help people who feel powerless."

"There's nothing that angers me more than seeing someone who can't defend themselves being bullied. My aim is to make sure that no one is without a line of defense. And the more weapons I have in my arsenal, the more I can pass on."

"We're alike in that then. There are so many families I've seen torn apart by war, by Death Eater raids, that I wanted to be able to give them some way to fight back. I thought with this new magic-at least new to them anyway," she sighed, "I could help mothers save their children, husbands protect their families…so no one ever has to see the Dark Mark hovering over their houses again."

"You, no doubt, intend to impart this by writing a book?" he raised a brow as she flushed at bit under his scrutiny.

"I had considered it," she allowed grudgingly, "but I also intend to give lessons. Those who are too old now to receive instruction from Hogwarts should be able to learn nonetheless. And I can screen them as carefully as you, taking on apprentices with a noble enough character to never misuse what I give them."

"We'd best both be careful to choose, in any case. It is hard to gauge who may be seduced by such heady knowledge. I believe we were chosen not only for our skill and sharp intellect, but for the very part of our characters which will not allow us to forsake duty."

Hermione sighed deeply and a moment later nodding reluctantly. "I will not forsake my duty," she said, raising a hand for Severus to help her up. "But I cannot bring myself to like it."

With that they walked back to the camp together in companionable silence, only to find the horses already loaded for their return to Cailleach's caer.

* * *

They made their way on horseback, stopping briefly for a light meal by the same stream where Severus and Lasair had stopped on their way north. With Scathach leading the way they made a somber caravan with Severus and Hermione trailing behind and Ferghus bringing up the rear.

On returning to Cailleach's caer, they were met with attendants and glad tidings. Neither Hermione nor Severus found it easy to thank them for their well wishes, but no one seemed to notice as they were ushered to their quarters to bathe and dress for the occasion.

Severus found, draped over a chair by the steaming tub, a midnight blue tunic embroidered in silver and edged with ermine. He tried not to think overmuch on the matching blue tights, but there were snug-fitting leather boots besides and a golden hilted sword in a scabbard etched with a bear, a tiger, and a jaguar, with a large sapphire set in the hilt.

Hermione, in the room across the hall, dressed in an ivory and ermine gown, embroidered with gold scrollwork before strapping on a dagger encased in a scabbard etched with a single lightening bolt. The dagger's hilt was marked with a smallish emerald, bedecked on either side with moonstones. Over her hair she placed a circlet of baby roses.

She slid her feet into soft calfskin slippers and at the knock on her door, followed the attendants, who turned out to be none other than Scathach and Latiaran. Trailing behind her was the other bride, clad in similar garb. Yet in lieu of a circlet, she wore a small tiara under which draped a veil. So she was a princess, Hermione thought, as she took a deep breath and descended the steps into the grand hall.

A long yellow runner had been placed between two seating areas before the throne. As she entered she saw off to her right, Severus, Ferghus, and Cian. Her heart leapt at seeing Cian once again, a flush lighting up her face at the memories of what they had shared the previous night. When his eyes lighted upon her, a slow smile crept across his face lighting his eyes.

While Scathach and Latiaran took their places, Cian stepped down to Hermione and took her hand, even as Severus stepped down to his soon-to-be bride and took hers, stoically. He could not, however, hold back the gasp of shock when he lifted her veil as Cailleach called the proceedings to order. There, on the dais, clasping his hand, was Lasair.

Nothing, in all the dreams he had shared with her, could make his heart thrum as this moment. He stood, smiling back at her, barely attending Cailleach's greeting and invocation to their ancient gods. Lasair squeezed his hand and smiled once more, before turning slightly to face the faery queen.

She hazarded a glance at her mother, warrior queen in her own right, and felt a throb in her throat as she saw Scathach dash a tear from her eye and smile wistfully at her youngest.

"We stand now in this in between place, to celebrate the union of these two fine couples," Cailleach was saying, "who have married this past night before the eyes of the gods. Before us now, they make their pledges to love and honor each other. As their souls have been entwined since birth, now their bodies have joined, so too will their minds and hearts."

"Do you, Severus Tobias Snape, swear fealty to your beloved and promise to honor the bond that fate itself has forged between the two of you?"

"That I do," he said, kissing the hand that she had clasped over his.

"Do you, Lasair, daughter of Scathach, warrior princess and ancient one, revoke your life as an immortal in order to honor the bond fate has forged between you and this mortal man? And in doing so, do you as well swear fealty to your beloved?"

"Yes on both counts," she said as her eyes filled with tears of love.

"Then I pronounce you now, before the beings and powers of the visible and invisible, united in matrimony that no one may rend asunder. Your bonds are eternal. Blessed be."

With that, they kissed to a thunderous applause. Severus kissed her once again on each cheek, just over the trail of tears as she laughed and pulled him to the side a bit. He wrapped his arms around her and they watched as Cian took his place on the dais and Hermione tearfully pledged herself to him and he her.

Once they were proclaimed husband and wife, Hermione wrapped both arms around the boy and he spun her once before planting an ardent kiss to her lips that set the crowd's applause ringing to the rafters.

From there, he and Lasair led the procession back down the aisle and a band set discreetly off to the side struck up a lively reel. Ladies and men of the gentry alike began clapping and singing a festive tune of love and springtime, while Severus spun Lasair out and pulled her back again, circling her into his arms for a dance. From the corner of his eye he could see Hermione and Cian in a slowly turning embrace that was far out of tempo for the upbeat tune. Neither of them seemed to care.

The first dance done, there were a half dozen more before Cailleach rang the bell for the feast. They dined with the Celtic fairy queen at the head, he and Lasair on one side and Hermione and Cian on the other as the guests of honor.

They celebrated well into the evening and retired to their honeymoon chambers, heavy with mead and honey cakes, yet still awake enough for their own private revelries. There they relished each other, savoring their connection in body, mind and soul until the wee hours of night.


	12. Chapter 12

Epilogue

No one was quite prepared to see Severus Snape walk out of the Shrieking Shack, least of all when he was followed out by a strange woman that no one had seen before. They had been frantically searching for Hermione by that point, for a few hours in fact, when she walked out of the tree line of the Forbidden Forest near where she disappeared, right around the time that Snape showed up.

When everyone gathered in the Great Hall to hear the duo's accounts of where they had been and who these strange new people were, they were astounded. Yet it was so unlike Hermione and Severus to pull such an outlandish, and frankly inopportune prank, that they had to be believed. Added to that were the manners and strange lilting accents of the newcomers as well, not to mention the fact that they all wore wedding rings and Hermione and Severus now had in their possession a set of very fine weapons, for each had awakened with not only the sword and scabbard but a large wieldy staff each as well.

Through Lasair's assistance, though, in the weeks to come certain heretofore doubted historians and geneology experts were proven quite correct in their assertions that wizard kind had evolved from the fairy race. The Malfoys, in fact, brought to light several large tomes, which delineated their family's roots right back to the unity between an Etruscan fae named Feronia and a Merovingian king-ostensibly to unite their two kingdoms.

No one at all, however, could doubt the quartet's knowledge of the new magics they brought with them. In time, Hermione did in fact write many books on what she had gleaned during her time abroad; there were how-to books using the nature magics, which became bestsellers for the older generations, plus treatises on the fae people and an account of all that took place during their time away.

It was Cian, however, who took on apprentices, as he came to be the better judge of character for those who would use the old ways well and with good conscience. He spent the bulk of his time farming in the countryside around Hogsmeade and training his pupils in the martial arts.

Lasair, much to Trelawney's chagrin, set herself up as a Seer in Hogsmeade proper. It was there that she and Severus bought the little house he had seen during his vision quest, and there that she gave him the children he had watched during his experience and longed for.

Hermione and Cian as well, had a boy and girl each, both with the bright eyes of the fae and an almost unearthly bearing.

As for Severus, he did not become the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Rather, he began a new position, as instructor in nature magics. From there he chose students who stood out in his classes to continue their seventh year doing independent study abroad, in the land of Tir na N'og.


End file.
